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Volume  42,  Number  1  January  1971 

Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 

\fk''-f';.J-'^^-.    !f^^ 

fv  *%         «     JA'<* 

Cover:  reproduction  of  a  specimen  of 
tapa  cloth)  from  A  Catalogue  of  the 
Difterent  Specimens  of  Clotti  Collected 
\      in  the  Three  Voyages  of  Captain  Cook, 
\      to  the  Southern  Hemisphere. 


Volume  42,  Number  1 
January  1971 

2   The  Primitive  Basis  of  Our  Calendar 

Van  L.  Johnson 

a  study  of  the  Roman  calendar  explains  why  our  present  calendar  Is  In  Its 

current  form 

8   Tapa  Cloth 

W.  Peyton  Fawcett 

a  generous  gift  of  a  catalogue  of  tapa  cloth  specimens  is  described 

1 0   Space  Biology  and  the  Murchison  IMeteorite 

Dr.  Edward  J.  Olsen 

a  recent  discovery  of  amino  acids  in  meteorites  is  discussed 

1 2    Portrait  of  a  Naturalist-Explorer 

Joyce  Zibro 

Dr.  Emmet  R.  Blake,  curator  of  birds,  is  profiled 

17  New  Books 

18  Letters 

19  Field  Briefs 

Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 

Director,  E.  Leiand  Webber 

Editor  Joyce  Zibro:  Associate  Editor  Victoria  Haider:  Staff  Writer  Madge  Jacobs;  Production  Russ  Becker:  Photograptiy  John  Bayalis, 
Fred  Huysmans. 

The  Bulletin  is  published  monthly  by  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive.  Chicago,  Illinois,  60605.  Subscrip- 
tions: $9  a  year:  $3  a  year  for  sctiools.  Members  of  the  Museum  subscribe  througti  Museum  membership.  Opinions  expressed  by  authors 
are  their  own  and  do  not  necessarily  reflect  the  policy  of  Field  Museum.  Unsolicited  manuscripts  are  welcome.  Printed  by  Field  Museum 
Press.  Application  to  mail  at  Second-class  postage  rates  is  pending  at  Chicago,  Illinois.  Postmaster:  Please  send  form  3579  to  Field  Museum 
of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605. 

Bulletin     January  1971 

The  Primitive 
Basis  of 
Our  Calendar 

Van  L  Johnson 

Bulletin     January  1971 

Why  does  the  year  begin  on  January 
first?  Why  are  there  twelve  months  in 
a  year  and  why  is  the  twelfth  month 
December  when  its  very  name  means 
"tenth  month"?  Why  does  a  week  have 
seven  days,  a  day  twenty-four  hours, 
an  hour  sixty  minutes?  A  study  of  the 
Roman  calendar  can  lead  to  answers  to 
questions  like  these  and  uncovers 
the  primitive  basis  of  our  calendar,  an 
institution  that  has  become  a  silent 
dictator  of  our  life's  pace  in  so-called 
civilized  times. 

We  are  still  using  the  Roman  calendar 
except  for  minor  changes  made  after 
Caesar's  reform  in  45  B.C.  This  is  rather 
remarkable  considering  the  revolutionary 
changes  made  in  the  calendar  up  to 
Caesar's  time.  A  study  of  the  origins 
of  our  calendar  faces  the  obstacle  that 
the  Roman  calendar  was  not  published 
until  304  B.C.  and  the  oldest  extant 
calendar,  that  of  Antium,  goes  back  only 
to  sometime  in  the  early  first  century 
B.C.  However,  evidence  for  the  primitive 
calendar  does  exist,  for  the  Roman 
calendar  was  basically  a  list  of  festivals, 
anniversaries  and  annotations  which 
included  matter  of  great  antiquity. 
Also,  the  Romans,  great  conservatives 
especially  in  their  religious  concerns, 
often  preserved  what  they  no  longer 
understood  and  primitive  elements 
persisted — thanks  to  this  conservatism 
— in  most  of  the  great  festivals  still 
celebrated  in  Imperial  times.  Through  a 
study  of  these  obsolete  factors 
preserved  in  the  written  calendars  and 
the  later  festivals,  we  are  able  to 
reconstruct  the  earlier  history  of  the 
calendar  and  to  form  some  notion  about 
what  lies  hidden  in  the  prehistoric 
darkness  from  which  the  calendar 

In  research  of  this  kind,  complete 
certainty  is  usually  impossible,  but  I 
believe  that  I  have  found  a  major  clue 
to  the  solution  of  many  perplexing 
problems:  namely,  an  unrecorded 
four-month  year.  A  study  of  the  nundinal 

This  is  a  Iragment  ot  the  calendar  of 
Praeneste  lor  the  beginning  ot  Inarch. 
Fragments  ol  this  calendar  have  been 
coming  to  light  since  the  litteenth  century. 

or  Roman  weekday  system  first  led  me 
to  assume  the  existence  in  primitive 
times  of  this  four-month  year.  Yet  its 
existence  can  be  detected  quite  simply 
in  our  present  names  for  the  months: 
December,  our  twelfth  month,  really 
means  "the  tenth  month,"  and  this 
count  goes  back  in  an  orderly  way  to 
September,  our  ninth  month,  which 
really  means  the  "seventh  month."  We 
know  too  that  August  and  July,  our 
eighth  and  seventh  months,  were 
originally  the  "sixth"  and  "fifth"  months 
(Sextilis  and  Quintilis)  renamed  in 
honor  of  Augustus  and  Julius  Caesar  in 
their  own  lifetime.  All  this  implies  that 
the  year  once  began  with  March,  that 
January  and  February  were  added  at 
some  time  to  a  ten-month  calendar,  and 
that  there  was  an  original  cluster  of 
four  named  months — March,  April,  May 
and  June — to  which  six  numbered 
months  were  added  to  form  the 
ten-month  year. 

It  appears  that  this  cluster  of  four 
named  months  was  actually  an  original 
four-month  year.  Since  three  four-month 
years  would  just  about  complete  one 
solar  year  this  was  probably  the  best 
calendar  the  Romans  possessed  and 
used  until  Caesar's  reform  of  the 
calendar  in  45  B.C.  For  most  primitive 
peoples,  the  sun  measures  only  the 
day;  and  the  moon,  with  its  distinctive 
phases  is  the  first  measurement  of 
periods  beyond  that.  In  addition, 
primitive  people  often  designate  market 
days  (the  days  when  they  gathered  to 
exchange  goods)  with  regular  intervals 
between  them.  The  early  Romans  seem 
to  have  followed  this  pattern  and  a 
four-month  year  may  be  their  attempt 
to  combine  a  thirty-day  lunation  with  an 
eight-day  market-week.  Their  market 
days  were  called  nundinae  or  "ninth 
days,"  but  this  means  "eight  days"  by 
our  mode  of  reckoning  which  is  not 
inclusive  like  the  Roman.  The  meshing 
of  these  two  time-units — thirty  and 
eight — could  be  soonest  accomplished 
in  four  months  of  thirty  days  each,  i.e., 
a  year  or  cycle — that  is  what  the  Latin 
word  for  year,  annus,  seems  to 
mean— of  120  days.  This  is  what 
anthropologists  call  a  permutation 

cycle — a  term  which  means  that  the 
cycle  is  completed  and  begins  again 
every  time  the  two  intervals  in  question 
coincide:  this  would  have  been  on 
March  first  in  the  four-month  year  under 
discussion.  However,  the  focal  point  in 
each  month  was  not  the  Kalends  as 
the  first  day,  but  the  Ides  or  "Divider" 
which  always  came  sixteen  days  before 
the  end  of  the  month,  because  half  of 
thirty  on  the  duodecimal  system  used 
by  the  Romans  in  computing  fractions  is 
not  fifteen,  but  sixteen. 

The  Ides  of  March  was  particularly 
prominent  because  March  was  the  first 
month.  In  a  thirty-day  month  it  must 
have  fallen  on  the  fourteenth  day  of  the 
month  and  on  the  sixth  day  of  a  Roman 
eight-day  week.  The  Ides  was 
celebrated  as  New  Year's  Day  with 
great  festivities  for  Anna  Perenna,  the 
"Unending  Year-Cycle."  Festivals  like 
this  were  known  as  feriae,  so  that  the 
Ides  of  March  is  a  ferial  day  or,  as 
abbreviated  in  Latin,  an  F-day.  The  Ides 
was  also,  I  think,  a  nundinal  or 
market-day,  for  the  great  fair  in  honor 
of  Feronia,  the  market  deity,  would 
have  fallen  on  this  day  in  a  four-month 
year.  Moreover,  all  other  market  days 
were  reckoned  progressively  from  this 
date,  so  that  all  fell  on  the  sixth  day  of  a 
Roman  week  and  the  earliest  calendar 
was  probably  simply  a  list  of  these 
nundinae.  They  were  also  festival  or 
ferial  days  for  the  first  recognized 
divinities,  so  that  these  days  were 
labeled  F.  Other  days  of  the  week,  if 
they  had  to  be  identified,  were  simply 
referred  to  by  the  remaining  letters  of 
the  alphabet  from  A-H. 

Days  of  the  month,  as  opposed  to 
days  of  the  week,  were  numbered,  I 
believe,  by  counting  up  to  and  down 
from  the  Ides:  two  vestiges  of  this 
practice  survive  in  the  name  "Nones" 
for  the  ninth,  i.e.,  the  eighth  day  before 
the  Ides,  and  in  the  name  of  a  festival, 
the  Quinquatrus  which  seems  to  mean 
the  fifth  day  after  the  Ides  of  March. 
This  practice  was  abandoned  in  later 
calendars  when  the  Nones  and  the 
Kalends  became  reference  points  in 
counting,  along  with  the  Ides. 

Bulletin    January  1971 



The  primitive  calendar  was  a  permanent 
calendar,  of  course — something  which 
calendar  reformers  are  again  striving 
for — since  a  new  year  began 
automatically  whenever  the  first  day  of 
the  week  and  the  first  day  of  the  month 
coincided.  The  permanent  nature  of  the 
calendar  is  nicely  illustrated  in 
a  phrase  which  runs  through  ancient 
literature  on  the  subject,  the  annus 
vertens  or  "turning  year."  Commentators 
have  seen  a  reference  to  the  turning 
heavens  and  other  celestial  matters; 
but  at  a  primitive  level,  it  must  have 
meant  something  more  recognizably 
physical,  and  I  suspect  that  it  refers  to 
actual  four-sided  stone  calendars  with 
one  month  on  each  side.  These  were 
no  doubt  turned,  perhaps  on  a  pivot,  to 
face  the  viewer  as  the  months  changed. 
I  would  think  that  we  have  relics  of 
these  in  the  four-sided  rustic  month- 
counters,  the  menologia  rustics,  which 
carried  a  twelve-month  calendar  with 
three  months  on  each  side.  These 
stones — of  Imperial  date — have  been 
regarded  as  seasonal  calendars,  but 
that  is  an  odd  seasonal  arrangement 
of  months  for  Italy.  They  are  more  likely 
an  adaptation  of  an  earlier  four-month 

If  we  analyze  this  four-month  calendar, 
the  units  it  contained  and  the  rituals  it 
embraced,  we  can  form  a  clear  picture 
of  the  community  it  served  and  the 
economy  it  reflected.  The  eight-day 
market-week  probably  reflects  the 
length  of  time  it  took  (eight  days)  to 
process  goat  cheese  in  ancient  Italy. 
The  length  of  the  year,  120  days, 
matches  the  gestation  period  of  the  pig. 
Two  of  the  primitive  month-names, 
April  and  May,  I  would  derive  from 
aper  meaning  "boar"  and  from  maia, 
tRe  name  of  a  goddess  which  I  think 
means  "sow."  Maia  is  certainly  related 
to  malalis,  the  Latin  word  for  a  gelding 
boar,  and  its  derivative  maiale  which  is 
still  the  Italian  word  for  "pig."  The 
quality  of  this  sow  or  maia  was 
maiestas,  so  after  all,  "majesty"  turns 
out  to  be  only  "pigness."   March  and 
June,  in  myopinion,  were  not  so  named 
in  the  beginning,  for  there  is  no  trace 

of  Mars  in  the  festivals  of  this  primitive 
March;  and  June,  if  named  for  Juno  by 
Latin  peoples,  would  have  been  called 
Junonius,  not  Junius.  The  first  of  June 
was  always  known  not  as  the  Kalends 
of  June  but  as  Kalendae  Fabariae,  the 
"Kalends  of  the  Bean"  and  here,  I 
think,  we  have  a  vestige  of  the  earlier 
month-name,  Fabarius,  the  month  of 
the  "bean,"  a  staple  diet  for  hogs  in 
early  Italy.  The  month  we  call  Marchi — 
because  the  Romans  named  it  Martius 
later  on  when  the  cult  of  Mars  was 
introduced — may  have  received  its 
original  name,  Caprotinus,  from  a  very 
important  festival  which  later  was 
attached  to  July  and  appears  there  in 
all  the  extant  Roman  calendars  as 
Nonae  Caprotinae,  the  Caprotine 
Nones.  In  a  four-month  year  this  would 
have  been  the  Nones  of  what  we  call 
March.   This  illustrates  how  festivals  or 
parts  of  festivals  were  dispersed  over 
an  ultimate  twelve-month  year — an 
important  phenomenon  in  the  study  of 
the  calendar.   For  example,  if  we 
identify  the  Caprotine  Nones  as 
originally  the  Nones  of  March,  it  is 
concurrent  with  some  interesting  rites 
for  Vediovis,  a  god  usually  described 
as  a  youthful  Jove  to  whom  a  capra 
was  sacrificed.   Capra  is  the  root  of 
Caprotina  and  in  developed  Latin 
means  "goat,"  so  Nonae  Caprotinae  is 
usually  translated  "Nones  of  the  Goat." 
But  we  can  go  even  further  than  this, 
for  capra  is  the  cognate  of  a  Greek 
word  kapros  which  means  either  "sow" 
or  "boar"  and  accounts  perhaps  for 
the  name  of  the  island  of  Capri — 
irreverent  thought!  Since  both  words 
are  also  related  to  Latin  aper  (boar), 
with  a  "k"  prefix,  it  is  probable  that 
capra  in  Latin  originally  referred  to  a 
sow  and  not  to  a  she-goat.  Therefore 
the  month  of  Caprotinus  is  another 
month  named  for  the  pig,  and  all  four 
months  of  the  primitive  contain  some 
reference  to  this  animal  or  its  food. 

To  the  four  original  months,  six 
months,  simply  numbered  from  five  to 
ten — Quintilis,  Sextilis,  September, 
October,  November  and  December — 
were  added,  tradition  says,  by  Romulus. 

This  new  year  of  ten  lunations,  or  300 
days,  corresponding  roughly  to  the 
gestation  period  in  cattle  and  in  human 
beings,  was  augmented  by  four  days 
to  give  a  multiple  of  eight  for  the  total 
number  of  days  in  a  year,  304,  so  that 
the  eight-day  week  would  still  mesh 
with  months.  These  four  extra  days 
were  added,  one  each,  to  the  months 
of  March,  May,  July  and  October  which 
continued  throughout  Roman  history  to 
have  their  Ides  or  full  moon  reckoned 
on  the  basis  of  a  31 -day  month. 

Since  the  months  now  varied  in  their 
number  of  days,  it  was  necessary  to 
inaugurate  a  system  of  dating  which 
indicated  how  many  days  there  were  in 
the  month  at  hand.  The  Nones  was 
made  a  point  of  reckoning,  and  the 
Kalends  was  introduced  to  "call"  the 
Nones.   When  the  Nones  took  on  this 
new  importance  for  dating,  it  was 
necessary  to  distinguish  it  carefully 
from  "nundinae"  a  word  which  means 
exactly  the  same  thing  as  Nones,  "ninth 
days,"  because  there  was  only  one 
Nones  in  a  month  whereas  there  might 
be  three  or  four  "nundinae"  in  the 
same  period.   Hence  the  reformer  was 
scrupulous  in  avoiding  a  nundinal 
Nones  and  later  superstition  confirmed 
his  effort  by  suggesting  that  a  nundinal 
Nones  was  unlucky.   The  force  of  this 
scruple  explains  why  "Romulus"  added 
a  day  to  alternate  months  until  he  got 
to  September;  he  skipped  September 
and  added  a  day  to  October  because 
thirty-one  days  in  September  would 
have  produced  a  nundinal  Nones. 

Numa,  the  second  king  of  Rome,  is 
credited  with  instituting  the  first  lunar 
year  by  adding  fifty  days  to  the 
calendar  of  Romulus.  To  equalize  the 
distribution  of  354  days  over  twelve 
months,  he  subtracted  one  day  from 
each  of  the  thirty-day  months,  added 
these  to  his  new  fifty  days  and  divided 
the  sum,  56,  into  two  new  months  of 
twenty-eight  days  each:  January  and 

Since  fifty-six  is  a  multiple  of  eight, 
both  January  1  and  March  1  were 
A-days  (first  days  of  a  Roman  week) 

Bulletin     January  1971 




-tr^n"        DF 


•f^      ^j:^' 







This  is  the  fragmentary  calendar  ot  Antium 
discovered  in  1915  by  the  Italian  scholar 
G.  Mancini.  This  inscription  records  the 
oldest  extant  Roman  calendar  unearthed  to 
date.  The  thirteen  months  is  represented 
by  a  column  with  the  abbreviations  tor  the 
name  ol  the  month  at  the  top,  and  includes 
the  intercalary  month.  The  first  column  of 
letters  under  each  month  indicates  the 
eight  days  of  the  Roman  weefc  lettered  from 
A  to  H.  The  second  column  of  letters 
abbreviates  the  legal  status  of  certain  days 
and  the  abbreviated  words  indicate  the 
dates  ol  festivals  or  dedications. 





Bulletin     January  1971 


in  the  first  year  of  this  reform;  but  to 
keep  them  so,  since  354  is  not  a 
multiple  of  eight,  it  was  necessary  to 
add  days  to  one  week  toward  the  end 
of  the  year.  This  was  accomplished,  I 
believe,  by  lettering  three  days,  namely 
December  17-19,  all  as  F-days.  This 
was  done  by  instituting  the  Saturnalia 
on  December  17  and  connecting  its 
ferial  functions  with  those  of  the  Opalia 
on  December  19.  Thus  a  tradition  for 
a  three-day  Saturnalia  developed  and 
we  find  the  real  origins  of  intercalation 
in  this  very  simple  device  to  make  the 
year  end  with  an  H-day  (the  last  day  of 
a  Roman  week).   Meanwhile,  the 
reformer  neatly  contrived  to  leave  it  an 
open  question  as  to  when  the  year 
really  began.   March  first  was  still  an 
A-day,  but  so  was  January  first. 

Reforms,  however,  can  be  over- 
ingenious  and  that  proved  to  be  the 
case  with  the  calendar  of  Numa.  The 
intercalation  was  immediately  neglected 
or  misunderstood  or  even  resented 
(since  January  first  had  no  sanctity  as 
an  A-day)  and  people  went  right  on 
lettering  December  17-19  in  the  normal 
way.  This  produced  a  nundinal  Nones 
in  January — or  would  have  done  so  if 
new  measures  had  not  been  taken.  The 
same  reformer,  or  a  new  one  whom  I 
label  Numa  II,  found  a  solution  by 
adding  a  day  to  January;  thus  removing 
the  Nones  from  its  unlucky  nundinal 
position  and  giving  the  year  355  days, 
a  number  achieved  in  this  simple  way 
and  not  because  of  any  superstition 
against  even  numbers  (the  ancient 
explanation).   But  355  is  not  a  multiple 
of  eight  either,  so  a  new  method  of 
intercalation  had  to  be  devised.  This 
consisted  of  adding  five  days  to  the 
calendar  between  February  23  and  24, 
all  lettered  in  the  normal  way,  but  this 
time  unnumbered.   Here  we  have  the 
origin  of  two  interesting  festivals,  the 
Terminalia  of  February  23  and  the 
Regiiugium  of  February  24,  as  well  as 
the  origin  of  intercalating  at  this  point 
in  the  calendar.   March  1  thus  resumed 
its  old  sanctity  as  the  one  true  New 
Year's  Day  and  remained  so  for  some 
purposes  down  to  153  B.C. 

During  the  Republic,  intercalation  came 
to  be  used  for  a  different  purpose:  to 
bring  the  lunar  year  into  accord  with 
the  solar  year  of  365  or  366  days.   An 
intercalary  month  of  twenty-two  or 
twenty-three  days,  called  Mercedonius, 
was  added  in  alternate  years  after 
February  23,  the  day  of  the  Terminalia, 
and  the  last  five  days  of  February  were 
absorbed  as  the  last  five  days  of 
Mercedonius,  a  vestige  of  Numa's  five 
unnumbered  days.   This  device  was  so 
often  neglected,  however,  or  corrupted 
by  priestly  or  political  abuses  that  the 
calendar  had  very  little  relation  to  the 
sun's  course  when  Julius  Caesar  and  his 
learned  adviser,  Sosigenes,  introduced 
those  reforms  which  are  still  the  basis 
of  our  calendar.   Caesar  first  extended 
the  year  46  B.C.  to  445  days,  thus 
bringing  the  old  calendar  into 
agreement  with  astronomical 

observations;  then,  on  January  1,  45 
B.C.  he  introduced  a  solar  calendar  of 
365y4  days:  the  fourth  parts  were 
allowed  to  accumulate  and  produce  a 
year  of  366  days  once  every  four  years. 
To  achieve  the  ten  new  days  of  a 
normal  year  (365  minus  355),  Caesar 
added  two  days  each  to  January, 
August  and  December,  one  day  each  to 
April,  June,  September  and  November; 
and  the  extra  day  for  leap  years  was 
inserted  after  February  23  as  February 
24  repeated,  i.e.,  bissextilis  the  "twice 
sixth-day"  before  the  first  of  March. 
So  it  is  we  speak  of  a  bisextile  year. 

Caesar's  calendar  was  eleven  minutes, 
fourteen  seconds  too  long,  so  Pope 
Gregory  made  a  slight  adjustment  in 
1582  A.D.,  dropping  ten  excessive 
days  at  once  and  stipulating  that  leap 
year  be  observed  in  centesimal  years 

Bulletin    January  1971 

only  when  they  are  divisible  by  400. 
These  corrections  were  not  accepted 
in  Great  Britain  and  the  American 
colonies  until  1752  A.D. 

The  seven-day  planetary  week  was  not 
common  in  Rome  or  the  West  until  the 
third  century  of  our  era  although  it 
appears  to  have  existed  alongside  the 
Roman  eight-day  week  in  a  Sabine 
calendar  in  the  first  century  after  Christ. 
The  planetary  week  had  its  origins  in 
the  Eastern  Mediterranean  where 
Babylonian  astrology,  the  Hebrew 
Sabbath-week  and  Egyptian  astronomy 
combined  to  formulate  and  confirm  it. 
The  nature  of  the  planets  was  first 
discovered  in  Mesopotamia  where  an 
intense  interest  in  the  heavens  gave 
rise  to  the  pseudo-science  of  astrology: 
the  sun  and  moon,  however,  were 
included  in  a  list  of  seven  "planets"  or 
"travelers,"  and  the  earth  was  omitted 
as  being  the  stationary  center  of  a 
geocentric  universe.  Saturn,  Jupiter, 
Mars,  Venus  and  Mercury  (to  use  the 
Latin  names  still  current)  were  properly 
located,  at  least  in  respect  to  their 
relative  distances  from  the  earth.  Pluto, 
Neptune  and  Uranus  were,  of  course, 
unknown  so  the  seven  "planets"  were 
Saturn  (the  outermost),  Jupiter,  Mars, 
Sol,  Venus,  Mercury,  and  Luna,  in  that 
order.  The  planets  were  conceived  as 
moving  in  spheres  or  orbits  around  the 
earth  and  passing  through  twelve 
constellations  or  "fixed  stars"  which 
made  a  zodiac  or  "belt  of  animals" 
around  the  heavens,  with  the  sun's 
path  or  ecliptic  as  the  middle  line. 
Since  the  sun  travels  through  ail  twelve 
signs  of  the  zodiac  in  one  year  and 
remains  about  the  same  length  of  time 
in  each,  this  system  evolved  something 
like  a  solar  month  which  could  be 
related  to  the  equinoxes  and  the 

But  in  Egypt  the  planetary  system 
underwent  further  development,  as  the 
seven  planets  were  meshed  with  a 
twenty-four  hour  day:  assigning  Saturn 
to  the  first  hour  of  the  first  day,  Jupiter 
to  the  second  hour,  Mars  to  the  third, 
etc.,  introduces  Sol  at  the  first  hour  of 
the  second  day,  Luna  at  the  first  hour 

of  the  third  day,  and  so  on  until  each 
"planet"  has  been  associated  with  that 
day  of  which  it  marks  the  tirst  hour. 
Thus  the  seven  "planets"  name  the 
seven  days  of  the  week  in  this  order: 
Saturn,  Sol,  Luna,  Mars,  Mercury, 
Jupiter  and  Venus.   In  this  sequence 
these  seven  celestial  bodies  still  name, 
with  minor  exceptions,  the  seven  days 
of  our  week;  French  preserved  the 
Latin  names  while  German  and  English 
translate  them  into  the  names  of 
counterparts  among  Germanic  deities. 

The  day  itself  appears  to  owe  its 
twenty-four  hour  division  to  an  Egyptian 
arrangement  which  affects  the  Graeco- 
Roman  world  at  an  early  period,  since 
twelve  hours  of  night  and  twelve  hours 
of  day  were  customary  both  in  Greece 
and  Rome.  The  twelve-hour  system 
originated  in  certain  "diagonal" 
calendars  which  date  back  to  anywhere 
from  1800  to  1200  B.C.  in  Egypt. 

The  Egyptians  had  a  solar  year  of  365 
days  divided  into  twelve  months  of 
thirty  days  each,  plus  five  epagomenal 
days.  The  360  days  of  the  twelve 
regular  months  were  divided  into 
thirty-six  decades  of  ten  days  each,  to 
each  decade  there  was  assigned  a 
particular  constellation  or  decan.  The 
heliacal  or  dawn  rising  of  this 
constellation  marked  the  last  hour  of 
the  night  for  a  ten-day  period;  it  was 
then  succeeded  as  decan  by  a  new 
constellation,  and  retired — so  to  speak 
— to  the  next-to-the-last  hour  of  the 
night,  and  so  on.  Only  one  of  these 
decans  can  be  identified,  Sirius,  whose 
heliacal  rising  in  the  summer  marked 
the  inundation  of  the  Nile.   Had  day 
and  night  been  of  equal  length,  18 
decans  would  have  been  visible  every 
night:  but  because  of  twilight  and  the 
short  nights  of  summer  when  Sirius 
rises,  only  twelve  were  visible  over  a 
ten-day  period.  This  twelve  hour 
division  of  the  night  was  then  imposed 
on  the  day,  perhaps  reinforcing  a 
division  of  the  day  into  ten  hours  plus 
one  hour  of  morning  twilight  and  one 
hour  of  evening  twilight — a  division 
which  was  known  in  Egypt  as  early  as 
1300  B.C.  Our  division  of  the  hour  into 

sixty  minutes  is  the  result  of  Hellenistic 
computations  worked  out  o«  the 
sexagesimal  system  first  devised  by  the 
Babylonians  about  1800  to  1600  B.C. 
Thus  the  sixty-minute  hour,  the  twenty- 
four  hour  day,  the  seven-day  week,  the 
twelve-month  year — all  represerU 
centuries  of  development  from  a 
primitive  mixture  of  superstition  and 
acute  observation  to  the  system  now 
ta4<en  for  granted. 

Dr.  Van  L  Johnson  is  Professor  of  Latin 
and  Chairman  of  the  Department  of  Cfassics 
at  Tufts  University.    This  arficie  was 
reprinted  with  permission  from  Archaeology, 
Vofume  21,  Number  1,  Copyright  1968, 
Archaeofogicai  institute  of  America. 

Bulletin    January  1971 

Tapa  Cloth 

IV.  Peyton  Fawcett 

The  Museum  has  received  with  the 
greatest  pleasure  another  gift  from  Mrs. 
E.  W.  Fuller  of  Sussex,  a  rare  and 
interesting  book  titled  A  Catalogue  of 
the  Different  Specimens  of  Cloth 
Collected  in  the  Three  Voyages  of 
Captain  Cook,  to  the  Southern 
Hemisphere.  This  volume,  from  the 
library  of  Mrs.  Fuller's  late  husband 
Captain  A.  W.  F.  Fuller,  is  one  of  the 
curiosities  of  literature  and  is  of  great 
ethnological,  artistic,  and  historical 
value.   It  is  a  most  welcome  addition 
to  the  Library's  collections. 

The  volume  was  published  in  the  year 
1787  in  London  and  is  illustrated  with 
actual  samples  of  the  tapa  or  bark  cloth 
collected  by  Cook  and  his  companions 
during  that  great  explorer's  three 
voyages.  The  text  is  brief,  consisting  of 
some  observations  on  the  manufacture 
of  bark  cloth  in  Polynesia,  and  chiefly 
taken  from  the  journals  of  Cook, 
Anderson,  and  John  Reinhold  Forster. 
Appended  to  this  are  "the  verbal 
Account  of  some  of  the  most  knowing 
of  the  Navigators"  and  "Some 
anecdotes  that  happened  to  them 
among  the  Natives"  in  the  form  of 
notes  on  the  items  listed. 

Oddly  enough  the  author  is  not  known 
and  his  dedication,  in  vigorous, 
picturesque,  and  charming  English,  is 
to  a  person  not  named: 

Sir,  these  are  only  select  specimens  for  a 
few  friends,  but  if  I  was  capable  to  give  the 
public  a  particular  account  of  the  manner  of 
manufacturing  cloth  in  every  part  of  the 
world,  I  would  not  hesitate  one  moment  to 
dedicate  it  to  you,  as  there  is  none  more 
ready  to  feed  the  hungry  and  clothe  the 
naked:  would  to  God  it  was  as  much  in  your 
power  as  it  is  in  your  heart  to  wipe  the  tear 
from  every  eye,  but  that  is  impossible;  for 
while  you  was  teaching  Indian  nations  how 
to  be  happy,  you  was  as  much  wanted  at 
home,  where  it  is  our  constant  wish  that 
Heaven  may  long  presen/e  you  the  support 
of  science,  and  idol  of  family  and  friends  . . . 

Henry  Usher  Hall,  In  his  description  of 
the  copy  of  this  work  in  the 
Pennsylvania  University  Museum  ("A 
Book  of  Tapa,"  The  Museum  Journal, 

Bulletin     January  1971 

vol.  12,  no.  1,  1921),  argues  very 
plausibly  that  this  person  is  Warren 
Hastings,  the  first  titular  Governor  of 
India,  whose  impeachment  was  pending 
at  the  time  the  dedication  was  written. 

Another  curious  feature  is  the  disparity 
between  the  number  of  specimens  as 
given  in  the  list  and  the  actual  number 
of  tapa  specimens  and  in  their 
arrangement.   Our  copy  agrees  with 
that  in  the  Pennsylvania  University 
Museum  in  having  39  items  on  the  list 
and  43  actual  specimens,  but  the 
arrangement  seems  to  differ.  Hall  notes 
that  the  Peabody  Museum  of  Salem 
copy  has  56  specimens  and  a  list  of 
39.  The  copy  described  by  Dr.  W.  T. 
Brigham  in  his  book  on  tapa  making 
Ka  Hana  Kapa  (Memoirs  of  the  Bernice 
P.  Bishop  Museum,  3,  Honolulu,  1911) 
apparently  has  only  39  actual 
specimens,  but  again  the  arrangement 
is  different.  Captain  Fuller  had 
compared  his  copy  with  others  and 
noted  that  "The  printed  descriptions 
are  totally  unreliable  and  have  no 
relation  to  the  specimens."  I  should 
like  to  remark  in  passing  that  Captain 
Fuller  was  a  man  who  knew  his  books 
and  collections  intimately  and  who  kept 
copious  and  meaningful  notes  on  the 
provenance,  history,  peculiarities,  and 
other  features  of  his  materials.   I  have 
had  the  pleasure  of  cataloguing  a 
number  of  his  books  and  have  much 
admired  the  fullness  and  depth  of  his 
researches.  The  present  volume  is  no 
exception  and  is  enriched  with  a 
number  of  valuable  notes. 

The  difficulties  in  identifying  particular 
specimens  as  they  stand  with  the 
numbers  of  the  list,  which  is  not  in  any 
real  sense  descriptive,  are  very  great; 
the  actual  specimens  are  unnumbered. 
As  Hall  points  out,  "The  original 
compiler's  chief  concern,  apart  from 
that  in  the  methods  of  manufacture, 
seems  to  be  with  the  human  interest 
evoked  through  contact  by  the  proxy,  so 
to  speak,  of  their  intimate  belongings 
with  the  simple  people  of  the  South 
Seas.   It  is  with  a  kind  of  pleased 
surprise  that  he  finds  these  people 

capable  of  emotions  quite  other  than 
fierce."  A  good  example  of  this  is  the 
description  of  cloth  number  34  of  the 

From  Otaheite  [Tahiti],  wore  as  garments  by 
the  ladies.  A  number  of  the  natives  being 
on  board  of  the  Resolution,  one  of  the  chiefs 
look  a  particular  liking  to  an  old  blunt  iron, 
which  lay  upon  one  of  the  officer's  chests, 
and  taking  hold  of  a  boy  about  nine  years 
of  age,  offered  him  in  exchange,  pointing 
to  the  iron.  The  gentleman,  although 
he  knew  he  could  not  keep  the  youth,  yet 
willing  to  see  if  he  would  willingly  stay;  or  if 
any  of  the  rest  would  claim  him,  took  the 
child  and  gave  the  savage  the  iron;  upon 
which  a  woman,  who  appeared  rather  young 
for  the  mother,  sprung  from  the  other  side 
of  the  ship,  and  with  the  highest  emotions 
of  grief  seemed  to  bewail  the  loss  of  the 
infant:  but  the  lieutenant,  with  a  true 
British  spirit,  took  him  by  the  hand  and 
presented  him  to  her,  upon  which,  after 
putting  her  hands  twice  upon  her  head,  she 
unbound  the  roll  of  cloth  which  was  round 
her  body,  and  from  which  this  specimen 
was  cut,  and  having  spread  it  before  him, 
seized  the  boy,  and  jumping  into  the  sea 
both  swam  ashore,  nor  could  he  ever  learn 
whether  she  was  the  mother,  sister,  or 
relations,  and  this  he  lamented  the  more,  as 
such  affection  was  very  seldom  seen 
among  those  people. 

Specimen  number  34  in  our  volume  is 
very  thin  and  of  a  dark  ivory  color. 
Number  34  in  the  Brigham  copy  is 
described  as  "A  thick  coarse,  ribbed 
cloth  painted  in  triangular  patterns  of 
orange,  red,  brown,  with  black  dividing 
lines.  So  far  as  the  diminutive 
specimen  shows  the  design,  it  was 
gaudy  rather  than  artistic."   Hall 
believes  that  number  37  of  the 
Pennsylvania  University  Museum  copy 
is  the  same  as  Brigham's  34.   From  the 
plate  in  Hall's  article  it  appears  that 
Qur  number  11  is  the  same. 

Of  the  accounts  of  the  manufacture  of 
bark  cloth  three  are  well  known  and 
the  one  from  an  anonymous  navigator 
is  rather  too  long  for  quotation. 
Basically,  the  manufacturing  process, 
similar  to  making  felt,  consists  of 
stripping  off  the  bast  and  soaking,  then 
beating  it  to  cause  the  fibers  to 
interlace  and  achieve  proper  thickness. 

The  uses  to  which  this  cloth  was  put 
were  many  and  varied.  Its  principal 
use  was  for  clothing,  chiefly  in  the  forni 
of  loin  cloths  for  men  and  women, 
breech  cloths  for  the  men,  and  mantles 
and  cloaks  for  both  sexes.   It  was  also 
an  important  medium  of  exchange  and 
an  element  of  wealth.  As  such  it  was 
presented  to  distinguished  visitors  as  a 
mark  of  favor.   It  also  had  many  uses 
connected  with  religious  and 
ceremonial  occasions. 

The  Museum  owns  other  pieces  of  tapa 
cloth  from  the  Fuller  collection, 
including  one  lot  of  great  historical 
significance.   Captain  Fuller,  speaking 
of  it  in  1958,  said; 

This  is  a  little  collection  of  seven  pieces  .  .  . 
from  I  don't  know  [where].  Some  look 
Hawaiian,  others  look  Tahiti[an].  This  is  the 
oldest  piece  in  the  Fuller  collection;  it  was 
a  collection  made  by  my  great  or  my 
great-great  grandfather  on  my  father's  side, 
Richard  Fuller.  It  was  a  little  lot  kept  in  a 
microscope  box.  We  used  to  play  with  these 
pieces  when  young.  There  were  a  great 
deal  more  then.  They  got  lost  and  smaller 
as  a  result.  A  wonder  any  remain.  It  is 
inscribed  by  my  grandfather,  Richard  Fuller, 
Jr.  of  Chichester .  .  .  '0-Tahiti,  tapa  cloth, 
made  of  the  bark  of  trees  brought  to 
England  by  Captain  Cook.'  That  being  so,  it 
must  have  been  a  gift  to  one  of  my  relatives, 
great  grandfather,  etc.,  or  one  of  my  great 
uncles — one  was  a  wealthy  old  chap,  and 
helped  to  finance  Cook,  it  is  not  generally 

It  is  fitting  that,  through  the  generosity 
of  Mrs.  Fuller,  these  specimens  and 
the  tapa  cloth  volume  are  together 

W.  Peyton  Fawcett  is  Head  Librarian 
at  Field  Museum. 

Bulletin    January  1971 

Space  Biology 

and  the  Murchison  Meteorite 

Dr.  Edward  J.  Olsen 

Over  the  past  year  Field  Museum  has 
acquired  over  60%  of  a  new  meteorite 
which  fell  on  September  28,  1969  near 
the  small  town  of  Murchison,  Australia, 
about  60  miles  north  of  the  city  of 
Melbourne.   From  the  very  first  it  was 
clear  that  Murchison  was  an 
extraordinary  meteorite.   Initial  research 
work,  principally  at  Field  Museum  and 
Argonne  National  Laboratory  revealed 
it  to  be  what  is  called  a  Type  II 
carbonaceous  chondrite,  of  which  only 
fourteen  exist  out  of  the  almost  2000 
known  meteorites.  These  carbonaceous 
meteorites  are  unique  in  that  they 
contain  about  13%  water  (combined  in 
some  of  the  minerals  that  compose 
them),  and  2%  to  2.5%  carbon,  a 
small  portion  of  which  is  combined  in 
a  large  number  of  different  organic 
compounds.   Because  of  the  presence 
of  these  organic  compounds  this  group 
of  meteorites  has  excited  a  great  deal 
of  research  activity  especially  over  the 
past  20  years  when  instrumentation  has 
been  developed  that  permits  extremely 
sensitive  examination  of  them. 

It  has  been  known  for  almost  a  century 
that  numerous  organic  compounds  can 
be  produced  without  the  intervention  of 
any  form  of  living  matter.  Many  of  them 
can  be  fairly  easily  synthesized  in  the 
laboratory.  For  some  of  them  there  is 
absolutely  no  difference  between  the 
synthesized  compounds  and  the  same 
compounds  that  are  made  biologically. 
for  others,  however,  there  are  small. 

but  significant  differences.  The  most 
interesting  of  these  is  the  group  of 
compounds  called  amino  acids.  Amino 
acids  consist  of  chains  of  carbon, 
hydrogen,  oxygen,  and  nitrogen  atoms. 
Different  internal  arrangements 
constitute  the  different  acids  of  the 
group.  An  amino  acid  chain  has  an 
interesting  property.   Because  of  the 
way  carbon  atoms  link  to  other  atoms 
of  carbon,  hydrogen,  etc.,  an  amino 
acid  chain  has  a  twist  to  it,  somewhat 
like  a  spiral  staircase.  The  spiral  can 
twist  either  clockwise  (which  is  called 
d,  for  dextral),  or  counter  clockwise 
(which  is  called  /,  for  levorotatory). 

Which  way  a  given  amino  acid  chain 
twists  is  immaterial,   it  takes  just  as 
much  chemical  energy  to  form  one  way 
as  the  other.  Thus,  when  a  chemist  is 
synthesizing  some  amino  acid  in  the 
laboratory  the  chances  are  50 :  50  that 
any  given  molecule  will  form  as  a 
d-type  (or  as  an  l-type).  This  is  exactly 
how  it  turns  out.  With  a  device  called 
a  polariscope  this  can  be  measured 
with  great  accuracy  and,  as  predicted, 
a  laboratory-synthesized  amino  acid 
shows  that  half  the  molecules  form  one 

way  (d),  and  half  form  the  other  way  (I). 
When,  however,  the  same  amino  acid 
is  formed  by  a  living  organism  the 
organism  imposes  a  pattern  upon  it  in 
such  a  way  that  all  the  molecules  twist 
in  only  one  way.   Most  organisms 
produce  entirely  l-type  amino  acids, 
though  some  of  them  produce  d-type 
acids.   No  organism  produces  half 
l-type  and  half  d-type. 

In  the  mid  1950's  Dr.  Stanley  L.  Miller 
performed  an  experiment  based  on  an 
idea  conceived  by  Prof.  Harold  C.  Urey, 
a  Nobel  Prize  laureate  in  chemistry. 
Both  were  at  the  University  of  Chicago 
at  the  time.  It  is  known  that  the  earliest 
atmosphere  of  gases  surrounding  any 
planet,  including  the  young  Earth, 
four-and-one-half-billion  years  ago, 
consisted  of  the  gases  methane, 
ammonia,  hydrogen,  and  water  (as 
opposed  to  our  present  atmosphere  of 

A  piece  of  ttie  Murchison  meteorite  tall. 
This  particular  piece  is  about  seven  inches 
long  and  shows  the  black  fusion  crust 
around  the  outside.   Part  of  this  crust  is 
flaked  away  revealing  white  mineral 
tragments  scattered  in  a  black  matrix.   The 
matrix  contains  organic  compounds  in  small 
amounts.  Argonne  National  Laboratory  Photo. 


Bulletin     January  1971 

mainly  nitrogen  and  oxygen).   Urey 
reasoned  that  simple  electrical 
discharge  (lightning)  in  such  a  primitive 
atmosphere  could  produce  simple 
organic  compounds  that  might  be 
progenitor-molecules  for  living  forms. 
Miller  set  up  a  chamber  that  contained 
these  gases  and  w/ired  it  to  produce 
discharges  of  appropriate  energies. 
The  analysis  of  the  results  proved  to 
be  vastly  better  than  expected.   In 
addition  to  some  simple  organic 
compounds,  nine  different  amino  acids 
were  formed  and  identified,  and 
fourteen  others  were  detected  but  not 
specifically  identified.   Because  these 
were  produced  by  a  strictly  physical, 
non-biological  process,  these  acids 
showed  the  characteristic  50%  l-type, 
50%  d-type  distribution.  Thus,  it  was 
clear  that  some  quite  significant  organic 
compounds  could  be  formed  by  a  very 
simple  process.  When  several  amino 
acids  combine  they  can  form 
combinations  called  proteins.  The 
simplest  living  thing  of  which  we  know 
is  a  type  of  self-reproducing  protein 
molecule  called  a  virus.  Thus,  amino 
acid  formation  is  only  a  step  away 
from  possible  simple  life  forms. 

After  this  experiment  there  were 
grounds  to  carefully  examine  the 
carbonaceous  meteorites.  They  show 
little  sign  of  having  undergone  any 
serious  change  since  they  were  formed 
in  the  solar  system  4.5  billion  years 
ago.   It  is  possible  they  might  contain 
remnant  amino  acids,  formed  by  a 
Urey-Miller  process,  among  the  organic 
compounds  in  them. 

A  search  of  this  kind  is  not  easy 
because  the  chance  of  contamination 
by  terrestrial  amino  acids  is  great. 
Amino  acids  are  present  on  our  hands 
and  skin,  and  the  air  is  rich  with 
bacteria  and  viruses  that  contain  them. 
Because  of  this  the  first  finds  of  amino 
acids,  in  the  1950's,  proved  to  be  false 
alarms  due  to  contamination.  The 
search  has  gone  on  intermittently  ever 
since  among  the  small  number  of 
carbonaceaus  chondrites,  always  with 
negative  or  equivocal  results.  The 

newest  of  these,  Murchison,  has  been 
the  object  of  this  search  since  it  fell 
late  in  1969. 

In  early  December  1970  national 
attention  (Time  Magazine,  New  Yorl< 
Times,  National  Observer,  Chicago 
Tribune,  etc.)  focused  on  the  findings 
of  Dr.  Cyril  Ponnamperuma,  who  is  a 
researcher  at  the  NASA  establishment 
at  Moffet  Field,  California.   He  reported 
isolating  seventeen  different  amino 
acids  in  minute  amounts  from  the 
Murchison  meteorite.   He  went  on  to 
report  that  these  showed  just  about  a 
50:50  split  between  I-  and  d-types. 
This  means,  of  course,  they  are  the 
products  of  a  non-biological  process — 
a  purely  physical  process.  Were  these 
due  to  contamination  it  would  be  almost 
impossible  to  accidentally  obtain  such 
a  50:50  distribution.  Contamination  by 
humans,  or  bacteria,  etc.,  would  create 
a  huge  preponderance  of  l-type  chains. 
This,  along  with  other  lines  of  evidence, 
seems  to  rule  out  contamination  as  a 

The  consequences  are  clear.  A  simple 
process,  such  as  that  of  the  Urey-Miller 
experiment,  operating  in  a  primitive 
atmosphere  at  the  very  start  of  the 
solar  system  is  capable  of  producing 
the  basic  building  blocks  of  life.   How 
long  it  took  for  such  amino  acids  to 
link  into  proteins  and  more  complex 
forms  no  one  yet  knows.  Perhaps  more 
important  is  the  fact  that  the  initial 
step,  formation  of  amino  acids,  is  so 
relatively  simple.   It  is,  what  is  called, 
an  event  of  high  probability.  This 
means  that  life  may  be  vastly  more 
prevalent  in  the  universe  than  we  ever 

Dr.  Edward  J.  Olsen  is  Curator  ot  Mirieralogy 
in  Field  Museum's  Department  ot  Geology. 


JUNE  8  -  JULY  2,  1971 

Fjords,  outdoor  museums,  gardens, 
wiidflowers.  birds,  archaeological  sites, 
architecture,  design.  Linnaeus'  gardens, 
great  cathedrals,  historic  palaces, 
opera,  midnight  sun  in  Lappland, 
reindeer:  Bergen,  Oslo,  Helsinki.  Tapiola, 
Lake  Inarl,  Stockholm,  Gotland  Island, 
Uppsala,  Gothenburg,  Kattegat, 
Halsingborg,  Norrviken.  Sofiero, 
Bosjokloster,  Lund.  Helsinfors,Copenhagenr 



Bulletin    January  1971 


"I  can  think  of  a  lot  of  easier  ways  to 
slide  through  my  final  years,"  says 
Field  Museum's  Curator  of  Birds,  Dr. 
Emmet  R.  Blake.   "But  somewhere 
along  the  line,  perhaps  while  being 
weaned  back  in  South  Carolina,  I 
became  infected  with  that  dread  virus 
known  as  the  Protestant  Ethic  which 
holds  that  everyone  should  strive  to 
'amount  to  something'  and  to  justify  his 
existence  by  some  work  of  value  to 

The  work  of  value  which  Dr.  Blake  is 
preparing  for  posterity  is  the  Manual  of 
Neotropical  Birds,  a  monumental 
^  undertaking  which  will  provide  for  the 
first  time  and  under  one  cover, 
taxonomic  information,  descriptions, 
appropriate  keys  and  the  distribution  of 
more  than  3,200  species  and  over 
8,500  races  or  subspecies  of  Central 
and  South  American  birds. 

The  natural  culmination  of  a  long 
professional  career  that  has  combined 
to  an  unusual  degree  both  laboratory 
research  and  field  studies,  Blake's 
Manual  will  provide  a  source  book  for 
the  professional  biologist  in  diverse 
specialties.   Perhaps  its  greatest 
potential  applied  value  is  in  the  field  of 
tropical  medical  research.  The  virologist 
and  parasitologist,  especially,  will  find 
in  it  a  convenient  means  of  identifying 
host  species  of  medical  interest. 

"The  bird  fauna  of  the  Neotropical 
region,"  says  Blake,  "far  exceeds  that 
of  any  other  zoogeographical  entity  and 

Portrait  of 
a  Naturalist- 

accounts  for  more  than  one-third  of  the 
world's  species.  The  Manual,  in  effect, 
will  be  an  elaborated  synopsis  of  this 
avifauna  in  several  volumes." 

Blake  began  work  on  the  Manual  in 
late  1965  under  a  grant  from  the 
National  Science  Foundation.  The  first 
volume,  now  near  completion,  probably 
will  be  published  in  1971.  Work  on  the 
Manual  is  being  continued  under  a 
recent  grant  from  the  Irene  Heinz  Given 
and  John  La  Porte  Given  Foundation. 
The  final  work,  consisting  of  several 
volumes,  is  scheduled  for  completion 
in  1984. 

"It's  hard  to  say  where  it  all  began," 
says  Blake,  looking  back  over  what  is 
recognized  as  an  outstanding  career  in 
museum  ornithology.  "I've  always  been 
interested  in  birds  and  other  animals 
and  especially  enjoy  studying  them  in 
their  natural  habitats.   Even  as  a  young 
boy  I  knew  what  I  wanted  to  do  and 
prepared  myself  the  best  I  could  in 
every  way  I  knew.   But  the  rest  was 
pure  luck,  the  breaks.   Somehow  I  just 
happened  to  be  in  the  right  places  at 
the  right  times  more  often  than  not." 

The  youngest  of  a  large  family  of 
modest  means  in  Abbeville,  South 
Carolina,  Blake's  enthusiasm  for  biology 
has  been  described  by  a  boyhood 
friend  as  "a  case  of  the  fixed  idea." 
Turned  journalist,  the  friend,  Preston 
Grady,  wrote  of  Blake  in  the  Greenwood 
Index-Journal  of  August  16,  1932: 

As  a  small  boy  he  compiled  notes  and 
sketches  of  his  observations  which  he  still 
proudly  exhibits.  He  held  an  intense  interest 
in  natural  history  studies  and  wild  life  from 
his  earliest  youth,  and  spent  most  of  his 
boyhood  afield,  preferably  alone.  He  usually 
had  a  menagerie  of  local  wild  pets  ...  At 
15,  he  entered  Presbyterian  College,  Clinton, 
and  during  the  next  four  years  flunked  at 
one  time  or  another  most  courses  given 
there  except  biology.  Biology  and  kindred 
subjects  were  so  much  pie  .  .  .  Much  of  his 
time  was  spent  afield,  carrying  taxidermy  to 
some  degree  of  perfection  and  becoming 
locally  famous  as  the  catcher  of  snakes 
and  birds. 

Joyce  ZIbro 

Graduating  from  Presbyterian  College 
at  19,  Blake,  with  $2.65  in  his  pocket, 
hitchhiked  to  Pittsburgh,  where  he 
hoped  to  get  a  job  and  work  his  way 
through  graduate  studies  in  order  to 
"muscle  into  museum  work."   Having 
won  the  ROTC  light  heavyweight  boxing 
championship  of  eight  states  in  college, 
Blake  was  able  to  tie  down  a  part-time 
job  as  boxing  and  swimming  instructor 
for  the  local  YMCA.  Concurrently  he 
worked  in  a  settlement  house.  These, 
combined  with  an  eight-hour  night  job 
pumping  gas  supported  him  in  graduate 
school  at  the  University  of  Pittsburgh. 
"It  was  life  with  a  big  'L',"  says  Blake, 
"and  I  had  a  ball.  With  all  those  jobs 
money  simply  poured  in.   It  totalled 
almost  $150.  A  month,  that  is,"  he 
added  with  a  wry  smile. 

One  of  "the  breaks"  came  in  1930  and 
Blake  interrupted  his  studies  to  assist 
experienced  South  American  explorer 
and  professional  ornithologist,  Ernest 
G.  Holt,  on  a  yearlong  expedition  for 
the  National  Geographic  Society  up  the 
Amazon  and  into  the  unexplored 
jungles  and  mountains  of  the  Brazil- 
Venezuela  boundary. 

Back  in  the  States  and  nearly  penniless 
again,  Blake  for  a  time  became  a 
private  detective,  pick  and  shovel 
construction  worker  and  professional 
prize  fighter.  And  back  at  the  University 
of  Pittsburgh,  at  age  22,  Blake  was 


Bulletin     January  1971 

Holding  a  Two-toed  Sloth,  Dr.  Blake  had 
this  photo  taken  in  Orinoco  Delta,  Venezuela 
while  on  the  Mandel- Field  Museum 
Venezuela  Expedition  in  1932. 

promoted  to  graduate  instructor  in 
zoology  and  continued  his  studies. 

^^-    "In  December  of  1931,"  recalls  Blake, 
"came  a  call  from  Field  Museum  of 
Natural  History  asking  if  I  would 
accompany  and  supervise  a  hiunting 
trip  to  the  Orinoco  River  and  remain  in 
Venezuela  to  do  some  intensive 
collecting  for  the  Museum."   Sailing  for 
South  America  aboard  the  sponsor's 
yacht,  Blake  supervised  jaguar  hunting 
in  the  Orinoco  delta  region  for  several 
weeks  before  taking  on  the  real  work 
of  the  expedition — alone.   Penetrating 
the  Venezuelan  coastal  range  from  the 
port  of  Cumana,  Blake  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  9,000-foot  summit  of 
Mount  Turumiquire  where  in  a  period 
of  35  days,  working  18  to  20  hours 
each  day,  he  collected  803  birds,  96 
reptiles  and  37  mammals,  perhaps  a 
record  collecting  performance  for  one 
man.  The  collection  included  several 
forms  new  to  science,  including  a 
lizard,  Anadia  blakei,  named  for  the 

In  1932  a  headline  in  Blake's  hometown 
newspaper  summed  up  his  career  thus 
far:  "At  23,  Emmet  Blake  of  Greenwood 
Is  a  Veteran  Scientific  Explorer." 

Having  thus  prepared  himself  "as  best 
I  could  in  every  way  I  knew,"  Blake 
was  offered  and  accepted  a  position  as 
Assistant  in  the  Division  of  Birds  at 
Field  Museum  in  July  1935.   "I  had 
been  following  the  activities  of  Field 
Museum  staff  scientists  ever  since  I 
was  able  to  read,"  says  Blake.   "It  is 
one  of  the  really  great  natural  history 
museums  and,  in  a  way,  perhaps  the 
goal  toward  which  I  had  been  moving 
all  my  life." 

Blake  interrupted  his  museum  career  in 
1942  to  serve  with  the  U.S.  Army 
Counter  Intelligence  Corps  for  more 
than  three  years  in  North  Africa  and 
Europe.   Returning  to  the  United  States 

with  the  rank  of  captain  and  several 
medals,  including  the  Purple  Heart,  he 
resumed  his  work  at  the  Museum  and 
was  promoted  to  Assistant  Curator  of 
Birds  in  1947.   He  has  served  as 
Curator  of  Birds  since  1955. 

Referred  to  by  a  colleague  as  "one  of 
the  hardiest  field  men  ever,"  Blake  has 
participated  in  eight  tropical  expeditions 
to  collect  specimens  and  has  seen  the 
Museunf's  collection  of  birds  increase 
from  75,000  in  1935  to  well  over 
300^000,  making  the  Field  Museum 
collection  one  of  the  largest  and 
certainly  among  the  most  important 
research  collections  in  the  world. 

"It's  hard  to  select  what  might  have 
been  the  most  exciting  expedition  I've 
been  on,"  says  Blake.   "The  West 
Indies,  Mexico,  Guatemala,  British 
Honduras,  Venezuela,  Colombia,  the 
Guianas,  Brazil,  Peru,  they  were  all 
wonderful  experiences.   If  you  have  to 
pin  me  down  to  one  trip  I  guess  it 

would  be  the  Sewell  Avery  Zoological 
Expedition  of  Field  Museum  to  the 
Acarai  Mountains  in  southern  Guyana 
(formerly  British  Guiana)  in  1939. 
Schomburgk,  the  German  naturalist, 
had  preceded  me  by  a  century  but  at 
the  time  of  my  visit  the  Brazilian 
frontier  of  the  Guianas  was  still 
uninhabited,  even  by  Indians,  and 
virtually  unknown  to  biologists.   I 
remember  it  as  a  region  of  jumbled 
mountains  and  turbulent  streams 
blanketed  by  a  trackless  forest;  a  'lost 
world'  if  there  ever  was  one.  Access 
to  that  remote  area  was  possible  only 
by  canoe  or  small  boat,  first  by 
ascending  the  treacherous  Courantyne 
River,  which  forms  the  boundary 
between  Surinam  and  Guyana,  and 
then  its  tributary,  the  New  River. 

"I  arrived  at  Georgetown,  capital  of 
Guyana,  on  August  12  with  six  hundred 
pounds  of  carefully  selected  collecting 
and  field  equipment,"  says  Blake.   "A 
small,  chartered  hydroplane  flew  a 
native  taxidermist  and  me  into  the 
interior.  After  a  flight  of  several  hours 
we  were  deposited  on  the  Courantyne 
River  just  above  King  Frederick  William 
IV  Falls,  and  so  avoided  weeks  of 
dangerous  river  travel.  At  the  falls 
were  Richard  Baldwin,  an  experienced 
riverman  who  was  to  serve  as  assistant 
for  the  expedition,  twelve  Indian  and 
Negro  boatmen  and  the  expedition's 
32-foot  boat,  the  Oronoque.   It  was 
powered  by  an  outboard  motor 
supplemented  by  Indian  paddlers,  and 
was  capable  of  surviving  all  but  the 
worst  rapids. 

"All  of  our  heavier  supplies  and 
equipment  had  to  be  relayed  up  the 
river,  through  and  often  around 
innumerable  rapids,  to  the  head  of 
navigation  on  Itabu  Creek  where  a 
base  camp  was  established.  Traveling 
light,  we  then  pushed  on  for  days  in 
dugout  canoes  until  they,  also,  had  to 
be  abandoned.  Finally  the  long,  long 

Bulletin     January  1971 


This  photo  of  Dr.  Blake  holding  a  Margay 
Cat  was  taken  in  1932  at  Mt.  Turumiquire, 
Venezuela  during  the  Mandel-Field 

trek  overland  with  heavy  packs  until  we 
reached  our  objective,  the  crest  of  the 
Acarais  where  Guyana  and  Brazil  meet. 
A  crude  camp  was  rapidly  thrown  up 
and  intensive  collecting,  almost  around 
the  clock,  began  some  five  weeks  after 
joining  the  boat  crew. 

"With  three  collecting  guns  in  use  from 
dawn  until  dark,  extensive  trap  lines 
set  for  small  mammals  each  night,  and 
several  men  scouring  the  forests  for 
specimens  of  all  kinds,  the  collections 
grew  rapidly.   More  than  2,000 
specimens  of  birds,  mammals,  reptiles 
and  fish,  not  to  mention  insects,  were 
collected  in  the  space  of  a  single 
frantic  month.  We  reluctantly  broke 
camp  in  mid-October  and  raced  for  the 
coast.  To  have  remained  in  the 
mountains  longer  would  have  left  us 
stranded  by  the  shrinking  streams  of 
the  dry  season. 

"Rivers  had  dropped  about  fifteen  feet 
during  our  month  in  the  mountains, 
and  stretches  of  water  which  had  been 
relatively  placid  during  our  ascent  were 
now  seething  rapids,  often  with 
whirlpools.   Many  channels  which  had 
been  difficult  before  were  potential 
death  traps  that  we  approached  with 
dread.   Disaster  was  an  imminent 
possibility  as  our  dugouts  were  run  or 
'streaked'  through  interminable  rapids. 
Any  serious  accident  could  be  fatal.   In 
the  Guyana  hinterland  you  can't  just 
walk  out;  you  move  by  boat  or  not  at 
all.  We  abandoned  the  dugouts  above 
King  Frederick  William  IV  Falls  and 
thereafter  were  dependent  on  the 
Orinoque  for  the  final  dash  home. 

"After  caulking,  the  Orinoque  was 
again  launched  and  we  had  visions  of 
reaching  civilization  within  a  week  or 
so.   But  while  running  rapids  only 

hours  after  pushing  off  we  struck  a 
submerged  rock  and  were  capsized  in 
mid-river.  Suddenly  it  was  every  man 
for  himself.  I  found  myself  under  the 
overturned  boat  struggling  frantically  to 
avoid  being  enveloped  in  a  tarpaulin 
that  had  been  used  to  cover  the  cargo. 
It  was  a  close  call,  almost  as  bad  as 
that  little  affair  at  Anzio  Beachhead 
...  but  that's  another  story. 

"Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,  all 
of  us  managed  to  reach  an  island  in 
mid-river,  but  without  food,  equipment, 
or  even  clothes.  A  few  things  were 
salvaged  from  pot-holes  later, 
including  some  of  the  specimens.  I 
sent  some  of  the  men  to  the  Surinam 
shore  and  they  managed  to  make  their 
way  back  to  King  Frederick  William  IV 
Falls,  a  ten-day  trek,  to  retrieve  several 
dugouts  that  we  had  abandoned. 
Meanwhile,  the  rest  of  us  scrounged 
for  food,  alternately  baked  under  the 
tropical  sun  or  froze  at  night,  slapped 
mosquitos,  dried  remnants  of  the 
collection  and  painstakingly  fabricated 
a  couple  of  serviceable  canoes  from 

the  salvaged  tarpaulin  and  the  bark  of 
a  'purpleheart'  tree. 

"With  the  return  of  our  'rescuers'  from 
up-river  we  formed  quite  a  flotilla.  Its 
arrival  at  La  Tropica,  a  Surinam  police 
outpost  and  farthest  interior  point  of 
civilization  on  the  Gourentyne,  created 
quite  a  sensation.  In  fact,  it  was  a 
near  disaster.  We  showed  up 
unannounced  at  about  2  a.m.,  were 
mistaken  for  attacking  escapees  from 
Devil's  Island,  and  were  very  nearly 
shot  before  identifications  could  be 
established.  All  in  all,  it  was  quite  an 
experience.  Wouldn't  care  for  a  repeat 
performance  every  day  before 
breakfast,  but  in  hindsight  I  wouldn't 
swap  the  memory  for — well,  you 
name  it." 

Letters  written  to  a  museum  colleague 
by  Blake  when  on  an  expedition  to 
Peru  in  1958  give  an  insight  into  some 
of  the  lighter  episodes  which  make  up 
a  part  of  any  natural  history  expedition 
and  reveal  Blake  as  a  man  of  wit  and 
humor.  He  gives  us  this  account  of 
his  reception  at  Hacienda  Villacarmen 
on  the  banks  of  the  Pena  Pefia  River 
in  Amazonian  Peru: 

"This  being  the  height  of  the  dry 
season  there  were  several  all-day 
deluges  that  gave  me  a  'breather' — 
and  also  the  two-day  celebration  in 
honor  of  Saint  Garmen,  patron  Saint  of 
the  Hacienda.   For  the  Indians  it  lasted 
56  continuous  hours  of  dancing  and 
drinking  raw  cane  alcohol.  The  rest  of 
us — I  couldn't  avoid  becoming 
involved — settled  for  a  single  night  of 
dancing  and  weak,  but  seemingly 


Bulletin     January  1971 

In  1958,  Dr.  Blake  was  on  the  Boardman 
Conover- Field  Museum  Peruvian  Expedition. 
This  photo  was  taken  in  Rio  Madre  de  Dios. 

inexhaustible  beer.  Our  party  included 
visitors  from  neighboring  haciendas 
and  apparently  all  leading  citizens  of  a 
nearby  village  who  either  owned  or 
could  borrow  shoes.   By  secretly 
fortifying  myself  with  half  a  cup  of 
cooking  oil  'El  Doctor  Americano' 
responded  to  each  and  every  'Salude' 
and  lasted  the  full  stretch  to  4  a.m. 
My  probably  elephantine  endeavors  In 
the  realm  of  the  tango,  samba  and 
mambo  were  much  admired  and 
produced  roars  of  'Ole.'   In  brief,  I 
think  I  succeeded  in  maintaining  the 
honor  of  the  Museum  and  integrity  of 
the  U.S. 

"While  at  Vlllacarmen,"  Blake 
continues,  "there  was  one  bit  of 
excitement  that  did  scare  hell  out  of 
me.   An  Indian  was  brought  in  who 
had  been  bitten  by  a  snake  believed 
to  be  invariably  deadly.   He  had 
already  slashed  the  wound  and  was 
wearing  a  vine  ligature.   'El  Doctor' 
was  hurriedly  summoned  to  take  over 
and  that  poor  devil  hadn't  previously 
taken  the  trouble  even  to  read  the 
complicated  directions  with  his 
anti-venom  equipment.   I  was  really  on 
the  spot,  however,  and  with  an 
audience  of  20-30,  had  to  go  through 
with  it.   I  soon  had  the  victim's  leg  so 
loaded  with  suction  cups  that  it  looked 
like  a  lemon  tree  and  was  about  to 
give  him  an  injection  when  it  dawned 
on  me  that  the  leg  wasn't  even 
beginning  to  swell.   I  sent  for  the 
snake.   It  was  brought  in,  headless, 
but  to  me  quite  obviously  only  an 
eight  foot  boa.  The  women  began  to 
weep,  there  was  quiet  discussion  of  a 
burial  detail — they  don't  waste  time  in 
these  latitudes — and  even  the  victim 
began  to  look  thoughtful.  They  still 

insisted  it  was  the  deadliest  of  all 
snakes;  the  only  explanation  I  have  is 
that  possibly  they  had  confused  it  with 
a  bushmaster.  OK.  They  had  their 
way,  but  I  decided  to  have  myself  a 
ball  with  some  pseudo-medical 
mumbo-jumbo  and  reap  the  rewards. 
Old  Doc  Blake  swung  into  action  by 
keeping  the  suction  cups  going  for 
another  half  hour  while  he  took  the 
patient's  pulse,  listened  to  his  heart, 
dilated  his  pupils  and  took  his 
temperature  every  five  minutes.  This 
last  inspiration  gave  me  a  wonderful 
opportunity  to  show  varying  degrees  of 
consternation.   Finally,  I  announced  the 
man  was  going  to  recover,  but  must 
have  a  week's  complete  bed  rest 
wrapped  in  blankets,  five  bottles  of 
beer  every  day  (dilutes  the  venom, 
enriches  the  blood  and  tones  up  the 
system),  and  no  sex  for  a  month.   I 
don't  know  about  the  patient's 
subsequent  love  life  but  I  do  know  he 
followed  the  other  directions  because  I 
visited  him  every  day  to  check  his 
pulse  and  help  him  with  his  beer!" 

In  still  another  letter  from  Peru,  Blake 
tells  about  his  expedition  cuisine.   "I 
came  out  (from  Manu)  in  a  magnificent 
40-foot  cedar  dugout  as  the  'paying 
guest'  of  a  man  named  Trencoso,  an 
older  brother  of  my  hunter.   The  trip 
took  six  days  (Manu  to  Pilcopata)  and 
it  rained  most  of  the  time.  We  always 
broke  camp  early,  were  on  the  river  by 
5:30  or  6:00  and  didn't  stop  until 
nightfall.   Meals  were  simple:  coffee — 
sometimes  with  cold  monkey  and  rice 
soup  for  breakfast,  crackers — 
sometimes  with  sardines  or  smoked 
fish  for  lunch,  and  coffee  with  hot 
monkey  and  rice  soup  for  supper.  The 
soup  was  very  good  and  usually  one 
could  chew  on  the  hunk  of  meat  all 
the  next  day  ...  As  the  paying  guest 
I  rated  the  best  and  first  of  everything. 
My  plate  was  the  top  of  the  stew  pan 
and  I  usually  got  the  one  spoon  for  my 
soup  instead  of  the  one  fork.   Palm 
leaves  served  as  plates  when  the 

Bulletin     January  1971 


At  Field  Museum  in  1971  Dr.  Blal<e  is  doing 
research  and  worl<ing  on  the  Manual  of 
Neotropical  Birds. 

Utensils  were  in  use  otherwise,   it's 
remarkable  how  easily  one  can  accept 
these  conditions  as  the  way  of  life, 
and  really  enjoy  them.  Although  wet, 
hungry  and  bug-bitten  the  whole  way 
I  had  a  hell  of  a  good  time." 

Again  writing  from  Peru,  Blake  shares 
some  of  his  leisure-time  thoughts  with 
his  colleague  at  the  Museum.    "Almost 
any  night  while  listening  to  my  men 
snoring,"  says  Blake,  "I  could  lie  in 
my  hammock,  close  my  eyes,  and  in  a 
moment  go  back  40  years  and  3000 
miles  to  the  Greenwood  of  my  youth 
and  see  once  more  (for  free!)  the 
circus  parade  as  it  formed  in  the 
vacant  lot  next  to  shanty  town  beyond 
the  Seaboard  Airline  Tracks.   Here  it 
comes  now,  up  Maxwell  Avenue,  past 
the  Bijou  Theatre  and  water  tank  to 
make  its  turn  for  the  Fair  Grounds  at 
Ellis's  Funeral  Parlor.   First  comes  a 
calliope,  followed  by  the  elephants  .  .  . 

"But  expeditions  are  only  a  part,  albeit 
an  essential  and  exciting  part,  of 
museum  work,"  says  Blake.   "On 
returning  from  any  expedition, 
specimens,  often  in  the  thousands, 
must  be  identified  and  catalogued,  the 
new  forms  described  and  named,  and 
the  entire  collection  studied  critically 
as  steps  in  the  preparation  of  the  final 
technical  report."   Blake  sums  his 
business  up  this  way:  "In  this  manner, 
little  by  little,  slowly  and  sometimes 
painfully,  we  learn  more  about  the 
world  around  us  and  the  myriad 
creatures  that  inhabit  It." 

Out  of  Blake's  explorations  and 
laboratory  research  have  come  over 
one  hundred  articles  and  books,  both 
technical  and  popular,  on  birds.   His 
best-known  book,  Birds  of  Mexico,  A 
Guide  for  Field  identification  is  now  in 
its  sixth  printing  and  is  recognized  as 
an  authoritative  work  on  the  rich  and 
varied  bird  fauna  of  that  country. 
Written  primarily  for  the  bird  watcher, 
its  650  pages  treat  all  of  the  967 
species  that  have  been  recorded  from 
the  Mexican  mainland,  the  adjacent 
waters  and  associated  islands. 

In  his  personal  life  Blake,  like  many 
of  his  museum  colleagues,  is  still  very 
much  the  outdoorsman  and 
naturalist-explorer.   Vacations  usually 
are  spent  camping  and  on  wilderness 
canoe  trips  which  over  the  past  twenty 
years  his  wife  and  two  daughters  have 
also  shared  and  enjoyed.  Mrs.  Blake 
recalls  a  wonderful  honeymoon  that 
included  a  "pack-back"  camping  trip 
along  the  Appalachian  Trail  in  the 
Great  Smoky  Mountains. 

"My  ambition  now,"  says  Blake, 
ornithologist,  explorer,  researcher, 
writer,  one-time  spy-catcher  and 
boxer,  "is  to  live  long  enough  to 
become  a  garrulous  old  man  with 
scads  of  boring  stories.  Sometimes  I 
suspect  that  goal  might  be  nearer 
than  I  realize." 

Joyce  Zibro  is  Editor  of  the  Field  Museum 
Bulletin  and  Public  Relations  Manager. 


Bulletin     January  1971 

The  Year  of  the  Whale 

By  Victor  B.  Scheffer.  Decorations  by 
Leonard  Everett  Fisher 
New  Yorl<,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons 
(01969).  $6.95. 

This  intriguing  volume  is  the  story  of 
twelve  months  in  the  life  of  a  young  sperm 
whale  and  is,  as  the  author  points  out, 
"fiction  based  upon  fact."  The  story  of 
"Little  Calf"  is  interspersed  with  information 
about  the  study  of  whales,  about  whaling, 
past  and  present,  and  about  conservation 
and  other  related  matters.  This  information 
is  printed  in  different  type  from  that  used 
for  the  story.  The  reader  follows  Little  Calf 
month  by  month  from  his  birth  in  the 
northeastern  Pacific  and  in  the  process 
learns  much  about  the  life  history  of  the 
whale  and  about  how  men  feel  about  whales, 
what  they  do  to  whales,  and  what  whales 
do  to  men. 

The  author  is  an  authority  on  the  biology 
of  marine  mammals  and  is  a  biologist  with 
the  United  States  Fish  and  Wildlife  Service. 
His  book  is  extremely  well  written  and 
documented  and  is  provided  with  "a  special 
kind  of  bibliography,  confined  to  some 
classic  works  in  the  literature  of  whales  and 
whaling."  The  volume  is  attractively 
illustrated  and  the  printing  and  binding  are 
very  nicely  done.  In  every  way,  an 
excellent  work. 

The  Bog  People;  Iron-Age  Man  Precerved 

(By)  P.  V.  Glob.  Translated  from  the  Danish 

by  Rupert  Bruce-Mitford 

Ithaca,  Cornell  University  Press  (1969). 


This  fascinating  and  profusely  illustrated 
volume  had  its  beginning  in  1950  when  two 
men,  cutting  peat  in  a  Danish  bog,  came 
upon  the  body  of  a  man  with  a  noose 
around  his  neck.  Believing  him  to  be  a 
recent  murder  victim  they  called  in  the  police 
who  in  turn  called  in  two  representatives 
of  the  local  museum.  These  gentlemen 
consulted  the  author,  an  eminent 
archeologist  and  now  Director  General  of 

Museums  and  Antiquities  in  Denmark,  who 
established  that  the  body  was  that  of  an 
Iron-Age  man  who  had  been  flung  into  the 
bog  2,000  years  ago  and  preserved  through 
the  tanning  action  of  the  water. 

In  the  last  200  years  about  700  such  bodies 
have  been  found  in  bogs  all  over 
northwestern  Europe,  most  showing  signs 
of  violent  death.  Prof.  Glob  became 
interested  in  why  so  many  people — men, 
women,  and  children — had  been  slain  and 
cast  in  the  bog  and  the  present  volume  is 
the  fruit  of  his  researches. 

Drawing  on  archeological  data  and  classical 
written  sources,  the  author  constructs  a 
picture  of  the  way  of  life,  culture,  and 
religion  of  these  people  and  concludes  that 
the  bodies  in  the  bogs  were  victims  of  ritual 
murder  and  sacrifice  to  Nerthus,  the 
goddess  of  fertility. 

Professor  Glob's  book  is  most  interesting 
and  readable,  though  some  of  the 
photographs  are  not  for  the  tender-minded. 

Seeds  of  Change;  the  Green  Revolution 
and  Development  In  the  1970'8 

By  Lester  R.  Brown 

Foreword  by  Eugene  R.  Black 

New  York  (etc.).  Published  for  the  Overseas 

Development  Council  by  Praeger  Publishers 

(1970).  $6.95. 

In  the  late  1950's,  Rockefeller  Foundation 
scientists  in  Mexico  succeeded  in  developing 
a  new  variety  of  wheat  that  yielded  twice 
as  much  grain  as  traditional  varieties. 
A  few  years  later  a  similarly  fruitful  rice 
was  developed  in  the  Philippines.  Within  less 
than  a  decade  these  and  other  new  varieties 
of  wheat  and  rice  had  been  refined  so  that 
they  could  be  grown  successfully  in  a  wide 
range  of  climatic  and  soil  conditions, 
particularly  in  the  impoverished  tropical 
areas  of  the  world.  Their  success  has  been 
phenomenal.  Between  1965  and  1969,  for 
instance,  land  planted  with  these  seeds  In 
Asia  expanded  from  200  acres  to  34  million 
acres,  about  one-tenth  of  the  region's  total 

grain  acreage.  Cereal  production   is 
increasing  spectacularly  in  Pakistan,   India. 
Ceylon,  and  the  Philippines,  and  other 
countries  are  quickly  beginning  to  capitalize 
on  the  new  grains. 

This  timely  and  useful  book  is  designed  to 
help  us  understand  the  significance  to  the 
agricultural  revolution  the  development  of 
these  "miracle"  strains  has  brought  about, 
and  to  bring  to  our  attention  its  implications 
for  the  future.  The  author  points  out  that 
"The  breakthrough  in  cereal  production  is 
meaningful  because  it  represents  at  least 
the  beginning  of  a  solution  to  the  problem 
of  hunger,  which  until  recently  was  regarded 
as  nearly  insoluble"  but  notes  that  "As  the 
new  seeds  and  the  associated  new 
technologies  spread,  they  introduce  wide 
and  sweeping  changes,  creating  a  wave  of 
expectations  throughout  society  and 
placing  great  pressure  on  the  existing  social 
order  and  political  situation."  The  "second 
generation"  problems  produced  by  the  new 
technologies  present  us  with  a  number  of 
choices  and  the  wisdom  of  our  choices  will 
determine,  the  author  argues,  whether  the 
revolution  will  fulfill  its  promise  of  ensuring 
a  better  life  for  those  who  inhabit  the  rural 
areas  of  poor  countries  or  whether  it  "will 
aggravate  the  job  shortage  and  accelerate 
the  exodus  from  the  countryside  to  the 
already  overcrowded  cities."  These  choices, 
he  feels,  are  political  in  nature  rattier  than 
agricultural  or  scientific,  and  consequently 
addresses  his  book  to  all  those  "whose 
opinions  and  actions  may  affect  future  plan? 
and  political  decisions":  concerned  laymen, 
academicians,  and  humanitarians  as  well. 

The  author  is  a  senior  fellow  with  the 
Overseas  Development  Council  and  served, 
between  1964  and  1968,  as  special  adviser 
to  the  Secretary  of  Agriculture  on  foreign 
agricultural  policy.  His  book  is  concise  and 
well  written.  I  recommend  it  highly. 

by  IV.  Peyton  Fawcett,  head  librarian. 
Field  Museum. 

Bulletin     January  1971 



To  the  editor: 

In  your  October,  1970  Bulletin,  you  have 
devoted  space  to  an  article  on  the 
population  crisis,  by  Dr.  Paul  Ehrlich. 

I  would  not  deny  that  there  may  be  a 
population  crisis  in  parts  of  the  world,  but 
I  do  question  whether  there  is  one  in  our 
United  States.   I  certainly  would  not  deny 
that  there  is  a  pollution  crisis.  In  either 
crisis,  population  or  pollution,  I  have 
serious  doubts  if  Dr.  Ehrlich  has  the  voice  to 
be  heard.  He  seems  more  a  propagandist 
than  a  scientist.  Your  Bulletin  has  dropped 
in  its  glory  by  your  fostering  of  his  thesis; 
that  we  must  change  our  system  of 
government  to  some  form  of  dictatorship, 
change  our  free  market  philosophy  to  a 
socialist  economy,  give  up  our  high 
standard  of  living  in  favor  of  something  like 
that  which  existed  in  the  United  States 
around  1840. 

Ehrlich  did  not  paint  such  a  picture  in  so 
many  words,  but  is  this  not  where  his 
paradoxical  solutions  take  us? 

The  United  States  now  has  two  hundred 
million  people  and  any  of  the  two  hundred 
million  who  will  work  can  eat  better  than  the 
few  thousand  Indians  who  lived  in  the  same 
area  in  the  year  1500.  We  eat  so  well,  in 
fact,  that  our  Government  is  paying  farmers 
to  remove  land  from  production  and 
othenwise  limiting  agricultural  production. 

Ehrlich  decries  the  ghetto.  Who  makes  the 
ghetto  but  the  folks  who  live  there?  New 
York  is  a  dirty  city,  but  it  is  New  Yorkers 
who  make  it  dirty.  Surely  if  they  did  not 
choose  to  live  in  such  filth  they'd  clean  it 
up.   It  is  not  the  number  of  people  but  the 
kind  of  people  living  in  New  York  that  make 
their  city  a  slum  area.  To  clean  it  up  they 
must  change  their  living  habits  and  not 
necessarily  their  sex  habits. 

In  his  solutions,  Ehrlich  turns  to 
government  and  to  politics.  Where  in  history 
has  government  involved  itself  in  a  social 
problem  where  the  end  result  has  not  been 

more  chaotic  than  was  the  original  problem?         To  the  editor: 

My  wife  and  I  are  the  only  inhabitants  in  an 
area  of  about  75  square  miles.  As  far  as  I 
know,  the  entire  area  is  clean.  Each  year 
the  government  licenses  certain  citizens  to 
come  into  the  area  to  hunt  wildlife.  Beside 
killing  off  the  wild  life,  the  area  looks  much 
like  a  garbage  dump  after  the  hunters  leave. 
It  is  not  the  number  of  hunters  that  create 
the  filth,  but  it  is  the  kind  of  people  they  are. 

Ehrlich  is  for  a  decrease  in  our  population, 
and  he  is  equally  against  the  use  of  DDT. 
But  he's  against  DDT  because  it  is 
decreasing  our  population.   I  do  not  believe 
I  like  his  system  of  population  control  a  bit 
better  than  DDT.   In  fact,  I  don't  like  it  at  all. 

Let  us  forget  Ehrlich,  and  take  some  other 

Robert  B.  Ayres 
Sedona,  Arizona 

To  the  editor: 

With  its  excellent  combination  of  scientific 
and  public  relations  facilities,  the  Field 
Museum  is  in  a  unique  position  to  inform 
the  public  about  the  great  ecological 
problems  facing  us — problems  more  urgent 
than  any  other,  except  the  threat  of  nuclear 
war.  The  article  by  Paul  Ehrlich  in  the 
October  issue  of  the  Bulletin  was  most 
informative,  and  at  the  same  time  a 
challenge  to  us  all  to  face  up  to  the  difficulty 
of  protecting  our  environment  from  the 
processes  of  deterioration  which  threaten 
to  become  irreversible. 

I  hope  there  will  be  many  more  articles  of 
ttiis  sort  in  the  future,  and  that  the  Museum 
will  stage  some  exhibits  which  will  pass  on 
to  all  visitors  to  the  Museum  some  of  the 
sense  of  importance  of  ecological  problems 
which  was  so  well  communicated  by 
Dr.  Ehrlich. 

With  best  wishes  for  the  continued  success 
of  the  Field  Museum. 

Alan  Garrett 

Let  me  express  my  admiration  and 
congratulations  on  the  new  Bulletin  format. 
Enclosed  are  a  few  items  I  thought  might 
properly  belong  in  your  magazine.  There  is, 
after  all,  a  world  of  humor  which  is  unique 
to  the  world  of  natural  history. 

James  G.  Kazanis 
River  Forest 

To  the  editor: 

Congratulations  on  the  Bulletin's  changes  in 
content  and  format.  There  is  no  reason  I 
can  think  of  why  a  museum  publication 
should  be  either  dry  or  stuffy;  and  it  is  a 
pleasure  to  see  that  this  feeling  is  shared 
by  the  editorial  and  design  staffs  for  the 
Bulletin.  In  an  age  where  so  much  is 
communicated,  it  becomes  almost  a  matter 
of  public  trust  that  content  be  relevant  and 
communication  be  fluent.  The  fresh 
approach  of  the  Bulletin  conveys  the  feeling 
that  the  museum  knows  about  this  and  cares. 

Charles  L.  Owen 
Associate  Professor 
Institute  of  Design,  IIT 

Please  address  all  letters  to  the  editor  to 


Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 
Roosevelt  Road  and  Lake  Shore  Drive 
Chicago,  Illinois  60605 

The  editors  reserve  the  right  to  edit 
letters  for  length. 


Bulletin    January  1971 

New  Assistant  Curator  of  Insects 

Dr.  John  Kethley  has  joined  the  scientific 
staff  of  Field  Museum  as  Assistant  Curator 
of  Insects.    Dr.  Kethley  received  his  BS 
degree  in  1964,  and  his  PhD  in  Entomology 
in  1969  from  the  University  of  Georgia. 
He  spent  the  past  year  at  Ohio  State 
University  on  a  post-doctoral  fellowship 
from  the  National  Institutes  of  Health. 

Dr.  Kethley  is  particularly  interested  in 
mites,  especially  the  classification  and 
population  dynamics  of  the  family 
Syringophilidae.  These  are  little-know/n  mites 
that  live  only  inside  the  quills  of  bird 
feathers.  He  has  written  several  scientific 
papers  on  this  subject  and  on  other 
aspects  of  biology. 

$500,000  Standard  Oil  Gift 

Field  Museum  of  Natural  History  recently 
received  a  capital  contribution  of  $500,000 
from  Standard  Oil  (Indiana)  Foundation. 
Announcement  of  the  gift,  which  represents 
the  largest  corporate  foundation 
contribution  to  Field  Museum  in  the 
Museum's  77-year  history,  was  made  at  a 
recent  luncheon  at  the  Museum  attended 
by  Robert  C.  Gunness,  president  of 
Standard  Oil  (Indiana)  Foundation;  Blaine 
J.  Yarrington,  president  of  American  Oil 
Foundation  and  a  trustee  of  Field  Museum; 
John  H.  Lind,  executive  director  of 
Standard  Oil  (Indiana)  Foundation; 
E.  Leiand  Webber,  director  of  Field  Museum 
and  Museum  President  Remick  McDowell. 

In  making  the  presentation,  Gunness  said, 
"Standard  Oil  Foundation  is  pleased  to  be 
able  to  support  the  famed  Field  Museum. 
People  everywhere  are  reconsidering  the 
extent  of  their  dependence  on  the  natural 
world  and  in  the  process  of  seeking  a 
broader  understanding  of  man  and  his 
relation  to  his  environment.  The  Field 
Museum  has  a  vital  role  in  discovering  new 
information  essential  to  that  understanding 
through  its  scientific  programs  and  an 
equally  important  role  in  transmitting  that 
information  to  the  community  through  its 
educational  programs.  We  are  perhaps 
rediscovering  the  significance  of  the  Field 
Museum  to  our  community  and  we  look  to 
it  for  continuing  leadership  as  we  seek  a 
better  appreciation  of  man  and  his 

"The  contribution,  to  become  available  to 
the  Museum  over  a  five-year  period,"  said 
McDowell,  "will  help  the  Museum  to 
embark  upon  a  long  postponed  program  of 
capital  repairs  and  improvement.   During 
the  thirty-year  period  from  1940  through 
1969  some  $3,081,000  was  expended  for 
major  repairs,"  said  McDowell.   "Of  this 
amount,  $1,470,000  went  for  building 
improvement  and  $1,611,000  for  equipment 
and  repairs.    However,  architectural 
estimates  show  that  over  twenty  million 
dollars  could  have  been  effectively  spent 
for  these  purposes  if  funds  had  been 
available.    In  appraising  the  Museum's 
capital  requirements  for  the  next  five  years 
some  $25  million  dollars  will  be  needed." 

Blaine  J.  Yarrington,  president  of  American  Oil  Foundation  and  a  trustee  ot  Field  Museum 
(left  to  right),  Remick  McDowell,  Museum  president,  E.  Leiand  Webber,  director  ot  the 
Museum,  and  Robert  C.  Gunness,  president  of  Standard  Oil  (Indiana)  Foundation,  are  shown 
at  a  recent  luncheon  where  a  capital  contribution  of  $500,000  was  made  to  the  Museum 
from  Standard  Oil  (Indiana)  Foundation.  The  gift  is  the  largest  corporate  foundation 
contribution  to  the  Museum  in  its  77  year  history. 

Completed  in  1920,  the  present  Museum 
building  with  the  terrace  and  surrounding 
grounds  occupies  an  area  of  thirteen 
acres,  the  building  itself  measuring  706 
feet  long  and  438  feet  wide  and  105  feet 
high.   The  building  houses  over  10,000,000 
specimens  which  make  up  the  Museum's 
world  famous  research  collection  and 
contains  ten  acres  of  space  devoted  to 
exhibition  purposes. 

"Soaring  operating  costs  over  the  past 
several  years,"  said  McDowell,  "have 
made  it  impossible  to  make  any  but  the 
most  minimal  of  repairs  or  improvements 
to  the  physical  facilities  of  the  building." 

"We  are  extremely  grateful  to  Standard  Oil 
(Indiana)  Foundation  for  this  very  important 
gift,"  said  McDowell.    "The  millions  of 
people  who  will  visit  the  Museum  in 
coming  years,  including  the  annual 
visitation  of  approximately  400,000  school 
children  in  organized  study  groups,  stand 
to  benefit  from  the  improved  facilities 
which  the  Foundation's  generous 
contribution  will  help  us  to  provide." 

Bulletin     January  1971 


Henry  Dybas  New  Head  of  Insects 

Henry  Stanley  Dybas  has  been  appointed 
Head  of  the  Division  of  Insects  in  Field 
Museum's  Department  of  Zoology.  A  native 
Chicagoan,  Mr.  Dybas  joined  the  Museum 
staff  in  1941  as  Assistant  in  the  Division  of 
Insects.  He  was  named  Assistant  Curator 
of  Insects  in  1947  and  has  served  as 
Associate  Curator  of  Insects  since  1950. 
A  specialist  in  the  systematics  of  the 
smallest  known  beetles,  the  featherwing 
beetles  {Ptiliidae),  and  the  population, 
ecology  and  evolution  of  the  17-year  and 
13-year  periodical  cicadas,  Mr.  Dybas  has 

Photo  by  Edumud  Jarecki 

Henry  S.  Dybas 

carried  out  field  work  in  the  United  States, 
Mexico,  Panama,  Colombia  and  Micronesia 
and  authored  numerous  scientific  papers 
and  popular  articles  on  insects. 

Speaking  of  the  relevance  of  studying  such 
tiny  insects  as  the  featherwing  beetle  (a 
dozen  or  so  small  featherwing  beetles 
could  be  placed  on  the  head  of  a  pin), 
Mr.  Dybas  said:  "They  are  important  in  their 
own  right  because  of  their  activities  and 
because  of  their  complex  relations  with 

other  forms  of  life  in  our  fields  and  forests. 
And  because  they  are  faced  with  extreme 
problems  as  a  result  of  their  small  size, 
their  study  can  provide  insights  into 
problems  of  general  biological  interest." 

In  addition  to  his  work  at  the  Museum, 
Mr.  Dybas  is  Research  Associate  in  the 
Department  of  Biological  Sciences  at 
Northwestern  University  and  Lecturer  in  the 
Committee  on  Evolutionary  Biology, 
University  of  Chicago.  He  is  a  member  of 
the  Entomological  Society  of  America,  the 
American  Mosquito  Control  Association,  the 
Ecological  Society  of  America,  the  Society 
for  the  Study  of  Evolution  and  other 
professional  organizations. 

Given  Foundation  Grant 

Field  Museum  has  received  a  $35,000  grant 
from  the  Irene  Heinz  Given  and  John 
LaPorte  Given  Foundation,  Inc.  The  grant 
will  be  used  as  a  subsidy  in  the  completion 
and  publication  of  the  Manual  of  Neotropical 
Birds,  which  Dr.  Emmet  R.  Blake,  curator  of 
birds,  is  currently  working  on. 

The  Manual  is  a  long-range  project  which 
started  through  a  grant  from  the  National 
Science  Foundation  in  late  1965.  The  final 
work  will  consist  of  several  volumes,  and  is 
scheduled  for  completion  in  1984.  A 
residue  of  National  Science  Foundation 
funds  will  see  Dr.  Blake's  work  through  the 
first  volume,  exclusive  of  its  publication. 
The  Given  Foundation  grant  will  ensure  the 
continuity  of  work  on  the  second  volume. 

Museum  Receives  NSF  Grant 

The  Museum  has  received  a  grant  in  the 
amount  of  $18,600  from  the  National 
Science  Foundation  for  continuing  research 
entitled,  "Herpetology  of  Seasonal  and 
Aseasonal  Tropical  Forests,"  under  the 
direction  of  Dr.  Robert  F.  Inger,  chairman 
of  scientific  programs.  The  grant,  which  is 
to  run  until  approximately  January  31,  1972, 
will  permit  Dr.  Inger  to  complete  research 
underway  since  July  1968,  on  the 
organization  of  animal  communities, 
particularly  reptiles  and  amphibians,  in 
tropical  forests.  "The  research  when 
completed,"  said  Dr.  Inger,  "will  permit  us 
to  estimate  the  amount  and  pattern  of 
genetic  variation  in  different  kinds  of  animal 
populations  in  terms  of  different  types  of 
distribution  patterns.  Our  ultimate  aim  is  to 
determine  how  ecology  affects  genetics  and 
in  effect,  how  the  organization  of  natural 
communities  affects  evolution. 

The  project  is  being  carried  out  in 
conjunction  with  Dr.  Harold  Voris  at 
Dickerson  College,  Carlisle.  Pennsylvania. 
Dr.  Voris's  prime  concern  will  be  the 
analysis  of  blood  proteins  to  determine 
genetic  constitution. 

Field  work  on  the  project  has  been  carried 
out  in  Malaya,  Borneo,  and  Thailand.  These 
areas  in  Southeast  Asia  were  selected,  said 
Dr.  Inger,  because  they  contain  an 
abundance  of  different  kinds  of  environments. 
Dr.  Inger  will  return  to  Malaya  for 
additional  field  work  in  July,  accompanied 
by  Dr.  Voris. 

Field  Museum's  geology  preparator  John  Harris  demonstrates  the  technique  of  model-making 
to  Museum  visitors.  Shown  with  him  are  Hisatoyo  Ishida  (lett)  and  Jo  Okada  (third  from  left), 
of  the  Agency  for  Cultural  Affairs,  Ministry  of  Education,  Tokyo.  At  the  right  is  Masataka 
Uehara  ol  the  office  ot  the  Consulate  General  of  Japan  in  Chicago.  They  met  with  various  staff 
members  to  learn  about  the  Museum  activities  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  a  natural 
history  museum  in  Japan. 


Bulletin     January  1971 



9  a.m.  to  4  p.m.,  Monday-TJiureday 

9  a.m.  to  9  p.m.,  Friday 

9  a.m.  to  5  p.m..  Saturday  and  Sunday 

The  Museum  Library  Is  open 

9  a.m.  to  4  p.m. 

Monday  through  Friday 

Throuflh  January  15 

Com  Blight,  an  exhibit  of  current  Interest 
The  effects  of  a  virulent  new  strain  of 
Southern  Com  Leaf  Blight  disease, 
responsible  for  a  predicted  18%  decrease 
In  the  nation's  com  crop,  are  shown. 
South  Lounge. 

Begins  January  16 

CatalogiM  of  (fM  DHtmnnt  Spodrnvu  ol 
Cfotfi  Collected  In  tha  7hr—  Voytgt 
0/  C»pialn  Cook,  to  (f»«  Southarn 
Homlaphon,  London,  Alexander  Shaw,  1787, 
on  display  In  the  South  Ljounge.  The  rare 
copy  consists  of  actual  tapa  cloth  specimens 
collected  during  Captain  Cook's  voyages 
to  the  South  Seas  (1768-1780).  The  volume 
Is  the  gift  of  Mrs.  A.  W.  F.  Fuller.  Through 
March  21. 

"Ufa  In  Othar  Woildar*  an  exhibit  of  the 
Murchison  meteorite,  a  Type  II  carbonaceous 
chondrlte,  of  which  only  fourteen  exist  out 
of  the  almost  2,000  known  meteorites. 
Recently,  amino  acMs,  possibly  building 
blocks  of  irfe,  have  been  reported  in  this 
meteorite.  Through  March  21.  South  Lounge. 

January  17 

Free  concart  by  the  Metropolitan  Youth 
Symphony  Orchestra.  2:30  p.m.,  James 
Simpson  Tftaatre. 

January  31 

Fre«  WndlHa  Film.  "Everglades  Safari," 
offered  t>y  th«  Illinois  Audubon  Society. 
2:30  p.m.,  James  Simpson  Theatre. 

Begins  February  7 

26lh  Chicago  Intamanonal  ExMMtloii  of 
Naiura  Photography  featuring  award-wlnnUfg 
photographic  prints,  sponsored  by  tfie 
Nature  Camera  Club  of  Chicago  and 
Field  Museum.  South  Lounge.  Through 
February  28. 

February  7 

A  showing  o(  priza-winnlng  transparandaa 

from  the  26th  Chicago  International 
Exhibition  of  Nature  Photography,  2:30  p.m.. 
James  Simpson  Theatre. 

Through  February  7 

A  ChlM  Go«a  Forth,  an  exhibit  of  toys  and 
games,  looks  t>eyond  the  superficial  nature 
of  playthings  and  into  the  influence  thay 
may  have  upon  a  child's  cultural 
development  Hall  9. 


"Exploring  Indian  Country,"  Winter 
Journey  for  Children.  The  self-guided  tour 
enables  youngsters  to  see  American  Indians 
of  three  environments  as  the  early  explorers 
saw  them.  All  boys  and  girts  who  can  read 
and  write  may  participate  in  the  free 
program.  Journey  sheets  are  available  at 
Museum  entrances.  Through  February  28. 

John  Jamas  Audubon'a  elephant  folk), 
"The  Birds  of  Amertca."  on  display  In  ttia 
North  Lounge.  A  different  plate  from  tha 
rare,  first-edition  set  Is  featured  each  day. 

7Sth  Araihreraary  Exhibit:  A  Sense  d 
Wonder,  A  Sense  of  History,  A  Sense  of 
Discovery,  continues  indefinitely.  Exciting 
display  techniques  offer  a  new  experlertca  to 
museum-goers.  Hall  3. 


January  12,  7:45  p.m..  Nature  Camera  Club 

of  Chicago 

January  12,  8  p.m.,  Chlcagoland  Glkter 


January  13,  7  p.m.,  Chicago  Ornithological 


January  13,  7:30  p.m..  Windy  City  Grotto — 

National  Speleological  Society 

January  14,  8  p.m.,  Chicago  Mountaineering 


January  19,  7:30  p.m.,  Chicago  Area 

Camera  Clubs  Association 

February  9,  7:45  p.m..  Nature  Camera  Club 
of  Chicago 

February  9,  8  p.m.,  Chlcagoland  Glider 

February  10,  7  p.m.,  Chicago  Omithotoglcai 

February  10,  7:30  p.m.,  Windy  City  Grotto- 
National  Speleological  Society 

Field  Museum's 
Worldwide  Natural 
History  Tours 


Wild  flowers 



Congenial  travel  companions 

Interpretalions  by  experts 

The  unhurried  approach 

Travel  w^ith  all  dimensions 



February  n-March  5. 
S2,807  includes  S600 

i22  days  o!  Andes,  S2.457;  1 1   days  ol 
Galaragos  cruise  ?.  Ouilo,  $1,190 — 

seB.i:.-::ol.)  ^.      '  ..    -  -•      .  ,,^g^ 

n  Faz,  Q',,  chu, 

Ct  ^n     ■  ,       :irquilla, 

O'linj.ayt.irnbo.  Cuzto,  LaKe  Trlicaca, 
Tia'-.uanaco   Spanish  Colonial  art  & 
arcbiteclure  in  Colombia.  Peru.  Bolivia 
and  Ecuador. 

Margain.  prominent  Mexican  archaeologis! 
and  ollicer  ol  Mexico's  Museo  Naciohal 
do  Aniropologia.  specialist  in  Mexican 
and  Andean  archaeology 

;   NATURALIST  with 
uf  and  -n  Tcur-cJor.  I 

'  ildilor  ol  Horlicullure  magazine 
'     -^r  Garden  Editor  of  The  News, 
Mexico:  author,  "A  Guide  to  Mexican 
Flora":  Field  Museum  Natural  History 
Tours  rt-.^i 

AM  aondi.uM^,  iu  riL'i^i  Viuiieurn  aro 
tax  deductible. 

Rates  are  from  Chicago:  may  be  ad 
Irom  points. 

Write:  Field  Museum 
Worldwide  Natural  History  Tours 
Roosevelt  Rd.  at  Lake  Shore  Dr. 
Chicago,  IM.  60605 






































>-. -. 





















ay2,  Number  2  February-  197! 

Fiel^)(/luseum  of  Natural  History 


•"    ^w 








Volume  42,  Number  2 
February  1971 

2    Canning  a  Legend 

Patricia  M.  Williams 

a  warning  that  man — for  the  second  and  last  time — is  extirpating 

the  wild  horse  from  North  America 

6   Algae  Are  Man's  Best  Friends 

Dr.  Matthew  H.  Nitecki 

the  importance  of  algae  for  life  on  earth 

10   Scandinavia:  Lands  of  Fjords  and  the  IMidnight  Sun 

Phil  Clark 

there's  something  of  interest  in  Scandinavia  for  every  natural 

history  traveler 

13  Bool(  Reviews 

1 4  Letters 

15  Field  Briefs 

Cover:  Two  red  marine  algae  from  the 
Monterey  Peninsula,  California.  The  lacy 
Microcladia  coulteri  is  growing  on  Gigartina 
harveyana.  Illustration  by  Richard  Roesener. 

Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 
Director,  E.  Leiand  Webber 

Editor  Joyce  Zibro;  Associate  Editor  Elizabeth  Munger;  Staff  Writer  Madge  Jacobs;  Production  Russ  Becker;  Photography  John  Bayalis, 
Fred  Huysmans. 

The  Bulletin  is  published  monthly  by  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605.  Subscrip- 
tions: $9  a  year;  $3  a  year  for  schools.  Members  of  the  Museum  subscribe  through  Museum  membership.  Opinions  expressed  by  authors 
are  their  own  and  do  not  necessarily  reflect  the  policy  of  Field  Museum.  Unsolicited  manuscripts  are  welcome.  Printed  by  Field  Museum 
Press.  Application  to  mail  at  second-class  postages  rates  is  pending  at  Chicago,  Illinois.  Postmaster:  Please  send  form  3579  to  Field  Museum 
of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605. 

Bulletin     February  1971 



Canning  a  legend 

Patricia  M.  Williams 

An  American  World  War  II  song 
confidently  proclaimed  "We  did  it 
before  and  we  can  do  it  again!"  With 
dubious  distinction,  man  can  now  sing 
the  same  song  about  the  elimination  of 
the  wild  horse  from  North  America. 

Some  50  million  years  ago  in  what  is 
now  the  western  United  States  the  tiny, 
four-toed  Eohippus  was  busily 
beginning  that  process  of  evolution 
that  resulted  in  today's  large,  single-toed 
horse,  Equus  caballus.  Abundant  fossil 
remains  of  the  horse  have  been 
unearthed  from  several  areas  in  the 
west,  especially  in  Texas  and  Wyoming. 

Ten  thousand  years  ago  Pleistocene 
man  entered  and  crossed  North 
America.  Two  thousand  years  later  the 
horse  was  extinct  on  this  continent. 
The  theory  most  widely  supported  by 
the  scientific  community  contends  that 
man  in  his  search  for  food  killed  off  the 
horse.  Others  suggest  that  man  in 
combination  with  a  virulent  epidemic 
did  the  job.  Whatever  the  cause,  there 
were  no  horses  on  the  North 
American  continent  when  Columbus 
arrived  in  1492. 

The  horse  was  brought  back  to 
continental  North  America  in  1519  by 
the  Spanish  conquistador,  Hernando 
Cort6s.  Cortes  departed  leaving  behind 
only  one  colt.  Next,  according  to 
legend,  DeSoto's  men  set  free  "six 
great  horses  of  Spain"  and  these 
horses  are  said  to  have  sired  the  great 
wild  race  that  replaced  their  kin  which 
were  lost  to  America  thousands  of 
years  earlier.  In  his  poem  "The  Distant 
Runners"  Mark  Van  Doren  celebrates 
this  event  with  the  lines,  "Four  and 
twenty  Spanish  hooves/Fling  off  their 
iron  and  cut  the  green, /Leaving  circles 
new  and  clean/While  overhead  the 
wing-tips  whirred." 

At  about  this  time  Coronado  and  his 
men  were  also  riding  horseback  across 
the  continent.  The  conquistadors 
treated  the  Plains  Indians  cruelly  and, 
in  return,  the  Indians  often  stole  the 
explorers'  horses.  Early  settlers  and 

traders  in  the  Santa  Fe  area  brought 
more  horses  which,  in  turn,  were  stolen 
or  escaped.  It  may  be  romantic  to 
believe  that  our  bands  of  wild  horses 
derived  from  those  of  DeSoto, 
Coronado  and  other  explorers.  In  fact, 
they  did  not.  As  George  Gaylord 
Simpson  states  in  his  book  Horses, 
"The  feral  herds — the  'wild  horses'  of 
western  history — arose  from  horses  that 
escaped  from  the  missions,  ranches 
and  Indians,  and  not  from  those  ridden 
by  the  explorers." 

Clearly  then,  our  American  wild  horse 
is  not  technically  a  wild  animal.  A  truly 
wild  animal  is  one  whose  ancestors 
have  always  been  wild.  As  our  "wild" 
horses  are  all  derived  from  imported 
domesticated  stock,  they  are  properly 
called  feral  horses,  but  through 
common  use  "wild"  has  become 

fvlost  of  the  early  wild  horses  were 
descendants  of  an  old  Andalusian 
breed.  These  Andalusian  horses, 
according  to  Simpson,  "were  jennets 
or  jinetas,  descended  in  part  from 
older,  even  prehistoric  Spanish  races 
but  with  a  predominant  Barb  element 
brought  in  by  the  Arab  conquerers  from 
North  Africa.' 

The  classic  Andalusian  was  rather 
small,  generally  built  close  to  the 
ground  with  a  wide  chest,  a  muscular 
rather  short  neck,  and  a  low-set  tail. 
It  displayed  the  whole  range  of  equine 
colors,  including  spotting. 

After  years  of  fending  for  themselves, 
the  modern  offspring  of  the  proud 
Andalusian  retain  the  almost  incredible 
stamina  and  endurance  of  that  breed 
but  have  lost  many  of  the  physical 
characteristics.  They  are  still  generally 
small,  but  too  often  border  on  the 
runty.  Their  scant  and  limited  diet  of 
grasses  has  contributed  to  their  small 
stature  and  sometimes  scrawny 
appearance  of  today's  wild  horse. 
Cross-breeding,  whether  uncontrolled 
or  through  attempts  to  improve  the  wild 
horse,  has  resulted  in  the  disappearance 

ot  the  classic  form  of  the  Spanish 
horse.   Nevertheless,  the  wild  horse  still 
retains  the  wide  assortment  of  colors 
while  the  spotted  or  patterned  form  was 
particularly  cherished  by  some  Indian 

The  mustangs  or  mestenos  were 
originally  the  horses  of  the  wild  herds 
that  belonged  to  no  one.  Eventually, 
the  term  mustang  included  the 
cowponies  taken  from  these  herds. 
Indian  ponies  usually  contained  much 
mustang  blood  and  a  little  of  any  and 
every  other  kind  of  horse  as  well. 
Today's  cowponies  have  been 
extensively  crossed  with  other  breeds 
and  the  original  mustang  is  all  but 
gone  here  in  America. 

But  in  1680  large  bands  of  mustangs 
were  racing  across  the  plains.  By  1900 
their  numbers  had  swelled  to  an 
estimated  two  million  horses,  ranging 
throughout  the  grasslands  from  west  of 
the  Mississippi  to  the  Rockies,  past 
the  Continental  Divide  and  through  the 
deserts  to  the  Pacific  Coast.  Today, 
following  years  ot  merciless  depredation, 
there  are  fewer  than   17,000  "wild" 
horses  on  public  lands  in  the  United 
States.  If  these  horses  were  simply 
being  eliminated  by  the  forces  of 
nature,  man's  responsibility  would  be 
less  grave.  Over  the  years,  however, 
the  white  man  has  had  a  variety  of 
reasons  for  eliminating  herds  of  wild 
horses.  Little-known  casualties  of  World 
War  I,  thousands  of  horses  were  sold 
to  the  allies  to  aid  in  the  war  effort.  To 
break  the  Indian's  will,  their  precious 
herds  of  horses  were  decimated. 
Cattlemen,  anxious  to  preserve  the 
grazing  land  for  their  own  livestock, 
actively  persecuted  the  wild  horses. 
Hope  Ryden,  in  her  book  America's 
Last  Wild  Horses,  writes  that  between 
1900  and  1926  the  wild  horse 
population  on  public  lands  declined 
from  two  million  to  one  million. 

Today  wild  horses  are  being 
slaughtered  for  dog  food.  Not  only 
swaybacked  nags,  weary  after  years  of 
pulling  a  plow  or  wagon,  but  young. 

Bulletin     February  1971 


strong,  free  horses  are  being  hounded 
to  exhaustion  by  siren-howling  planes. 
Low-flying  horse-hunters  dive  over  the 
panic-stricken  herd  blasting  it  with 
buckshot  to  keep  it  moving  in  the 
desired  direction.  Some  horses  drop 
dead  from  exhaustion,  their  lungs 
bursting  from  the  strain,  but  others  are 
driven  madly  on  into  the  corral  where, 
filled  with  fear,  they  often  fight,  pile  up 
and  trample  each  other  to  death. 

Those  who  survive  the  hideous  chase 
are  packed  into  trucks  for  cross-country 
shipment  to  the  meat  cannery.  In  her 
book,  Hope  Ryden  states: 

Once  the  truck  was  loaded,  ttie  door  was 
not  opened  again  during  the  long  haul  to 
the  packing  plant  and  the  horses  were 
neither  watered  nor  offered  food.  A 
transportation  regulation  known  as 
"killer-rate"  exempts  truckers  carrying 
livestock  to  market  from  a  law  which 
requires  that  in  transit  animals  must  be  fed 
and  watered  at  regular  intervals.  It  is 
argued  that  animals  en  route  to  a  packing 
plant  are  condemned  cargo  anyway,  and 
the  transporter  need  not  spend  time  and 
money  maintaining  their  physical  well-being. 
Yet,  though  "killer-rate"  unfortunately 
applies  to  all  livestock,  domestic  animals 
do  not  suffer  the  kind  of  maltreatment 
inflicted  on  the  wild  horse  during  its  ride 
to  slaughter. 

The  truck  leaves  in  its  wake  unweaned 
colts  doomed  to  starvation,  stallions 
blinded  with  buckshot,  and  wretched 
animals  whose  hoofs  were  worn  down 
to  bloody  stumps  during  the  deadly 
race.  And  this  just  to  fill  Rover's  dinner 

This  dog-eat-horse  policy  is  not  without 
its  supporters,  obviously.  Although  not 
all  agree  with  the  methods  by  which 
the  horses  are  exterminated,  many 
people  feel  that  if  economic  gain 
cannot  be  derived  from  them,  then  the 
horses  have  no  right  to  exist.  Mr. 
Chester  (Chug)  Utter,  an  airplane  pilot 
and  mustanger,  claims  to  have  captured 
40,000  horses  over  14  years  for  the 
Bureau  of  Land  Management,  which 
sold  the  animals  at  auction.  Mr.  Utter 
advocates  wild  horse  preserves 

established  on  government  land  and 
says,  "You  need  every  spear  of  grass 
for  deer,  antelope  and  cattle.  I  don't 
have  any  ax  to  grind  either  way.  But  I'd 
much  rather  have  wild  game  than  a 
bunch  of  horses  you  can't  do  nothing 
with"  {New  York  Times,  Nov.  15,  1970, 
p.  62.  "A  Devoted  Few  Strive  to  Save 
Wild  Horses"). 

Even  Dr.  C.  Wayne  Cook,  head  of 
Range  Science  Department  of 
Colorado  State  University  and  chairman, 
Advisory  Committee  to  the  Department 
of  the  Interior  on  the  Wild  Horse  Range 
in  the  Pryor  Mountains,  cautions  that 
there  should  be  some  control  over  the 
numbers  of  wild  horses  lest  they 
multiply  too  quickly  and  become  too 
competitive  for  grazing  lands.  But  Dr. 
Cook  appreciates  the  emotional  and 
historical  factors  too,  in  the  movement 
to  preserve  the  wild  horses. 

Historically,  the  wild  horse  played  a 
major  role  in  the  development  of  the 
west  and  was  a  positive  aid  to 
expeditions  such  as  that  of  Lewis  and 
Clark.  It  helped  the  early  trappers, 
pioneers,  ranchers  and  the  fledgling 
cattle  industry.  The  wild  horse  was  an 
integral  part  of  the  culture  of  American 
Indians  and  was  incorporated  into  their 
myths  and  ceremonies. 

The  unquestionable  emotional  appeal 
of  the  wild  horse  was  perfectly 
expressed  by  Matt  Field's  description 
of  one  he  encountered  along  the  Santa 
Fe  trail  in  1839,  as  related  in  America's 
Last  Wild  Horses  (pp.  125-128): 

"  'Twas  a  beautiful  animal  ...  a  sorrel, 
with  a  jet  black  mane  and  tail.  We  could 
see  the  muscles  quiver  in  his  glossy  limbs 
as  he  moved;  and  when  half  playfully  and 
half  in  fright,  he  tossed  his  flowing  mane 
in  the  air,  and  flourished  his  long  silky 
tail,  our  admiration  knew  no  bounds  and 
we  longed  .  .  .  hopelessly,  vexatiously 
longed  to  possess  him. 

Of  all  the  brute  creation  the  horse  is  the 
most  admired  by  men.  Combining  beauty 
with  usefulness,  all  countries  and  all  ages 
yield  it  their  admiration.  But,  though  the 

finest  specimen  of  its  kind,  a  domestic 
horse  will  ever  lack  that  magic  and 
indescribable  charm  that  beams  like  a  halo 
around  the  simple  name  of  freedom.  The 
wild  horse  roving  the  prairie  wilderness 
knows  no  master  .  .  .  has  never  felt  the 
whip  .  .  .  never  clasped  in  its  teeth  the  bit 
to  curb  its  native  freedom,  but  gambols, 
unmolested  over  its  grassy  home  where 
Nature  has  given  it  a  bountiful  supply  of 
provender  .  .  .  We  might  have  shot  him 
from  where  we  stood,  but  had  we  been 
starving,  we  would  scarcely  have  done  it. 
He  was  free,  and  we  loved  him  for  the  very 
possession  of  that  liberty  we  longed  to  take 
from  him  ...  but  we  could  not  kill  him." 

Philip  Hershkovitz,  research  curator 
of  mammals  in  Field  Museum's 
Department  of  Zoology,  believes  that 
"few  things  in  man's  world  equal  the 
beauty  of  a  racing  herd  of  wild 
horses."  As  a  taxonomist,  he  also 
points  out  that,  "By  destroying  the 
horse  we  will  have  extirpated  from  the 
American  continent  an  entire  family  of 
its  wild  fauna — for  the  second  and  last 
time."  Hershkovitz  went  on  to  observe 
that  while  many  dog  lovers  may 
protest  cruelty  to  animals  they 
unwittingly  condone  it  by  purchase  of 
the  product  of  a  base  and  ruthless 
policy  of  extermination. 

For  whatever  reason,  emotional, 
historical,  or  scientific,  many  are 
joining  the  growing  movement  to  protect 
the  last  of  the  once  numerous  bands  of 
wild  horses.  Mrs.  Velma  (Wild  Horse 
Annie)  Johnston,  president.  International 
Society  for  the  Protection  of  Mustangs 
and  Burros,  is  one  of  the  prime  forces 
in  this  movement  and  it  was  largely 
through  her  efforts  that  "The  Wild 
Horse  Annie  Bill"  (Public  Law  86-234) 
was  passed  in  September  1959.  This 
bill  prohibits  the  pursuit  of  unbranded 
horses  or  burros  by  aircraft  on  public 
domain.  Like  so  many  of  the  laws  and 
regulations  affecting  the  wild  horse, 
this  one,  too,  has  a  loophole.  According 
to  Mrs.  Johnston,  hunters  get  around 
this  law  by  putting  a  branded  mare 
into  the  wild  horse  herd  and  then 
gather  up  the  whole  group  a  year 
later.  Obviously,  then,  further  legislation 
is  needed. 

Bulletin     February  1971 

A  bill  introduced  by  U.S.  Senator 
Hansen  of  Wyoming  would  have  given 
the  Department  of  the  Interior  custody 
over  the  wild  horses.  Although  the  bill 
died  in  committee  last  year,  Mrs. 
Johnston  and  her  associates  still  hope 
to  secure  federal  protection  for  the 
wild  horse  and  get  another  bill 
introduced  this  year. 

There  are  now  two  wild  horse  preserves 
on  federal  land  controlled  by  the 
Bureau  of  Land  Management.  One,  in 
the  Pryor  Mountains  of  Wyoming,  was 
the  result  of  the  efforts  of  a  group  of 
concerned  citizens  dedicated  to  saving 
a  herd  of  200  wild  horses.  The  other 
federal  preserve  is  less  than  ideally 
situated  on  the  Nellis  Air  Force 
bombing  and  gunnery  range  and  the 
Nevada  test  site  of  the  Atomic  Energy 

Twenty  years  ago,  Simpson  noted  that 
herds  of  wild  horses  were  relentlessly 
hunted  and  diminished.  He  commented 
on  the  loss  of  the  historic  mustang 
and  noted  that  in  the  Argentine  a 
breeding  stock  of  ponies  similar  to  our 
mustangs  had  been  gathered  from 
remote  parts  of  the  country  and 
preserved  in  "an  admirable,  increasingly 
valued  registered  breed,  the  Criollo." 
His  point  was,  of  course,  that  a  similar 
project  could  be  undertaken  here. 

Although  they  do  not  all  agree  on 
goals,  there  are  groups  here  in  the 
United  States  interested  in  the  wild 
horses,  such  as  the  American  Mustang 
Association,  the  National  Mustang 
Association  and  the  Spanish  Mustang 
Registry.  The  first  seeks  to  improve  the 
wild  horse  by  breeding  for  purposes  of 
competition  and  marketing;  the  second 
is  concerned  with  the  sport  of 
"mustanging" — running  and  capturing 
wild  horses  for  personal  and  recreational 
purposes,  as  well  as  educating  the 
public  on  the  conservation  needs  of 
the  wild  horse.  The  third  group,  the 
Spanish  Mustang  Registry,  is  out  for 
blood — pure  Spanish  blood. 

Fifty  years  ago  Robert  and  Ferdinand 

Photos  from  Hope  Ryden's  America's  Last  WUd  Horses. 

Brislawn  began  to  search  the  wild 
bands  for  pure-blooded  Spanish  horses 
to  form  the  foundation  of  what  would 
become  the  Spanish  Mustang  Registry. 
The  non-profit  association  was  formally 
established  in  1958  to  perpetuate  the 
mustang  and  establish  a  permanent 
reserve  for  the  animals.  Eighty-year-old 
Robert  "Wyoming  Kid"  Brislawn 
explains,  "We  are  trying  to  restore  a 
breed,  not  create  one."  For  this  reason, 
the  Spanish  Mustang  Registry  cannot 
be  looked  to  as  the  salvation  of  all 
wild  horses.  In  the  past  50  years  only 
about  200  horses  have  qualified  for  the 
registry  and  today  few  roam  the  3,000 
acre  Brislawn  Ranch. 

As  bills  are  discussed  by  committees, 
the  grim  hunt  for  dog  food  relentlessly 
goes  on.  Thousands  of  years  ago, 
driven  by  hunger,  primitive  man  used 

his  simple  tools  to  kill  the  wild  horses. 
Today,  sated  with  an  abundance  of 
artificially  sweetened,  seasoned,  colored 
and  preserved  foods,  we  use  our 
sophisticated,  motorized  skills  to  kill 
the  legendary  wild  horse  for  dog  food. 


Ripley,  Anthony.  "A  Devoted  Few  Strive  to 
Save  Wild  Horses."  The  New  York  Times, 
November  15,  1970  (p.  1). 

Ryden,  Hope.  America's  Last  Wild  Horses. 
New  York:  E.  P.  Dutton,  1970. 

Simpson,  George  Gaylord.  Horses.  New 
York:  Oxford  University  Press,  1951. 

Patricia  M.  Williams  is  Managing  Editor 
of  Scientific  Publications  at  Field  Museum. 

Bulletin     February  1971 

Algae  Are  Man's  Best  Friends 

Dr.  Matthew  H.  Nitecki 

Acetabularia  crenulata.  One  of  the  most 
beautiful  algae,  often  referred  to  as 
mermaid's  wineglass  or  mermaid's  parasol. 
The  disc  at  the  top  of  the  plant  indeed 
looks  like  a  shallow  cup  or  inverted 
parasol.  Because  it  grows  easily  in  captivity, 
it  is  a  much-studied  alga.  The  recent 
studies  are  particularly  concerned  with  the 
role  and  function  and  interrelation  of  cell 
.nucleus  and  the  protoplasm. 

Illustrations  by  Richard  Roesener 

If  an  extraterrestrial  giant  could  come 
to  the  earth  and  stand  over  the  greater 
Chicago  area,  he  would  notice  many 
unusual  things.  When  the  sun  first  falls 
upon  the  earth  the  biomass  begins 
flowing  towards  the  center  of  the 
megalopolis,  and  when  the  sun  goes 
down  the  same  biomass  leaves  the 
city  to  disperse  itself  into  the  periphery. 
The  giant  would  postulate  his  first  law — 
that  the  solar  energy  controls  the 
movements  of  the  biomass.  If  he  could 
pick  up  a  car  in  his  colossal  fingers 
the  occupant  would  either  jump  out,  try 
to  hide,  scream,  panic,  freeze,  or 
simply  die  of  fright.  If,  nevertheless, 
the  giant  would  succeed  in  holding  up 
the  driver,  he  no  doubt  would  squeeze 
all  life  out  of  the  poor  man  and  he 
would  postulate  his  second  law — that 
life  is  a  fragile  thing  and  very  difficult 
to  study.  He  may  further  add  that  life 
manifests  unpredictable  behavior  and 
movements.  The  giant,  while  examining 
and  testing  the  physical  environment, 
would  formulate  his  third  law — that  the 
biomass  releases  great  wastes  into 
the  atmosphere  and  into  the  water  in 
the  complicated  process  of  manufacture 

of  seemingly  strange  objects,  and  in 
production  of  heat  and  locomotion. 

If  our  giant  strides  away  In  his 
seven-league  boots  to  follow  the  sun 
west,  he  may  step  over  some  forest 
and  wonder  over  its  tranquillity  and  the 
purity  of  the  air  above  it.  He  will  notice 
that  oxygen  is  produced  by  plants 
during  the  day  and  little  waste  is 
manufactured.  He  may  pick  up  the  tree 
from  its  bed  and  meditate  over  it 
under  the  scrutiny  of  his  instruments. 
He  will  neither  be  shot  at,  nor 
screamed  at,  and  he  will,  therefore, 
modify  his  second  law  by  adding  that 
plants  are  more  stable  and  less 
neurotic  than  animals.  When  examining 
the  air  around  him,  and  measuring  the 
production  of  sugar  and  carbohydrates, 
he  will  postulate  a  fourth  law — that 
plants  provide  all  the  food  and  all  the 
oxygen,  and  that  animals  simply  eat 
and  burn  it.  He  may  consider  animals 

Bulletin     February  1971 

degenerate  organisms  unable  to 
produce  their  own  foodstuffs  and 
dependent  upon  plants  to  do  it  for 
them.  He  may  even  think  of  man  as  a 
capricious  parasite  of  the  earth.  He  will 
see  plants  as  benefactors  that  alter  the 
simple  Inert  matter  into  the  complexity 
and  dynamism  of  life.  Our  other-world 
giant  may  go  further  to  the  great 
ocean  where  he  will  find  out  that  most 
of  this  activity  of  food  and  oxygen 
production  and  cleaning  the  air  of 
carbon  dioxide  is  conducted  in  the  sea 
by  "simple"  organisms  called  algae. 
And  so  he  will  put  forward  his  fifth  law 
— that  algae,  indeed,  produce  most  that 
is  needed  for  life  on  the  earth. 

Our  giant  will  marvel  at  the  efficiency 
of  algae  and  will  discover  that  the 
well-known  photosynthetic  equation 


->   CH,0  +  O, 

CO2  +  H,0 

green  plants 

means  that  one  molecule  of  carbon 

dioxide  combines  with  one  molecule  of 

water  in  the  presence  of  light  within 

the  pigment  of  green  plants  to  produce 

carbohydrates  and  oxygen.  In  a  more 

sophisticated  way  he  can  say  that  in 

the  process  of  photosynthesis  the 

atoms  of  hydrogen  from  water  are 

used  to  transfer  carbon  dioxide  into 

carbohydrates  and  at  the  same  time 

the  free  oxygen  from  the  dissociated 

water  is  released.  Our  Gargantuan,  just 

like  Professor  Eugene  I.  Rabinowitch  of 

the  University  of  Illinois,  will  calculate 

that  each  year  plants  of  the  earth 

combine  about  150  billion  tons  of 

carbon  with  25  billion  tons  of  hydrogen, 

and  set  free  400  billion  tons  of  oxygen! 

Throughout  the  last  three  bdlion  years, 

plants  have  been  continuously  dying 

and  organic  matter  has  been 

continuously  decomposing.  The  only 

process  known  that  steadily  reverses 
the  results  of  decomposition  and 
provides  for  the  continuity  of  life  on 
earth  is  photosynthesis.  In  the  process 
of  photosynthesis,  plants  harness  solar 
energy  and  produce  organic  matter 
which,  after  being  used  by  animals.  Is 
dissipated  and  is  mostly  lost  as  heat 
into  the  interplanetary  space.  Our 

Cyclocrinites  dactioloides.  This  marine 
calcareous  green  alga  of  Silurian  age  was 
for  a  long  time  considered  a  problematic 
sponge.  Its  fossil  remains  are  commonly 
found  among  450-million-year-old 
coral  reefs  in  Illinois  and  Iowa. 

colossus  will  be  astonished  to  realize 
that  when  photosynthesis  ceases,  life 
stops  and  the  atmosphere  will  lose  all 
its  free  oxygen. 

In  the  past  there  has  been  a  vigorous 
discussion  in  scientific  literature  of 
what  constitutes  the  plant  kingdom  and 
of  what  constitutes  the  animal  kingdom. 
The  differences  between  these  two 
groups  disappear  when  "lower"  forms 

of  life  are  examined.  While  our  Titan 
can  tell  the  difference  between  a  dog 
and  a  rosebush,  the  placement  of 
certain  microscopic  flagellate 
organisms  within  a  kingdom  will  be 
more  difficult  for  him.  In  order  to 
resolve  this  problem  of  placing 
plant-animal-like  creatures  in 
classificatory  schemes  that  would 
indicate  their  relationship  he  would 
expand  the  two  kingdoms  into  three. 
In  time,  this  system  too  would 
become  inadequate,  and  soon  four 
and  even  five  kingdoms  would 
have  to  be  recognized.  The  five 
kingdoms  concept  of  organisms  has 
been  suggested  by  Professor  R.  H. 
Whittaker  of  Cornell  University  to 
consist  of  Monera  (for  example, 
blue-green  algae  and  bacteria). 
Protista,  (unicellular  forms  such  as 
euglenoids,  golden  algae  and 
protozoans),  Plantae  ("conventional" 
plants  such  as  red  and  green  algae 
and  vascular  plants).  Fungi  (absorptive 
organisms  such  as  fungi  and  slime 
molds),  and  Animalia  (the  animals). 

The  system  of  five  kingdoms  of  living 
things  appears  to  be  gaining  some 
acceptance  and  seems  to  serve  best 
our  present  knowledge  of  the  living 
world.  Within  our  five  kingdom 
classification  algae  are  assigned  to 
three  of  these  kingdoms:  Monera, 
Protista  and  Plantae.  The  word  alga 
is  subject  to  change  as  our 
understanding  of  the  interrelationship 
between  various  groups  of  algae 
changes.  It  is  now  believed  that  the 
algae  represent  a  great  variety  of 
organisms  of  diversified  evolutionary 

Bulletin     February  1971 

origin  and  not  of  a  single  common 
lineage.  Algologists  use  the  word  alga 
to  indicate  several  groups  of 
organisms  having  similar  reproductive 

The  problem  or  problems  of 
classification  of  algae  are  very 
technical,  particularly  since  algae 
constitute  a  loosely-knit  group.  The 
main  characters  used  in  their 
classification  are  biochemical:  algae 
are  separated  on  the  basis  of  their 
pigments,  the  nature  of  their  cell  v\/all, 
the  products  of  their  photosynthesis, 
and  the  nature  of  their  flagella. 

Algae  lack  true  leaves,  stems,  or  roots, 
and  for  this  reason  have  been 
considered  "primitive."  This  concept 
is,  however,  now  losing  support.  Algae 
represent  a  great  diversity  of  forms. 
Some  are  microscopic;  others,  as 
Pacific  kelp,  may  reach  a  length  of  150 
feet.  Reports  of  kelp  600  feet  long 
from  Brazil  need  confirmation.  Certain 
algae  are  single  cells  that  may  be 
filamentous  or  branching.  There  are 
those  that  are  membranous,  or  some 
may  even  be  tubular.  Although  some 
species  are  terrestrial,  most  are  aquatic 
and  are  found  in  all  waters,  seas, 
lakes,  streams  and  ponds.  They  can 
float  as  plankton  or  they  can  exist 
attached  to  substrate  or  to  other  plants 
or  animals.  Some  algae  inhabit  the 
soil,  others  live  on  bark  of  trees  or 
even  on  rocks,  and  recently  algae  have 
been  collected  from  the  atmospheric 
currents.  There  are  even  those  that 
thrive  on  snow  or  within  other 
organisms,  or  as  lichens,  the  composite 
organisms  consisting  of  fungi  living 
together  with  algae.  Even  two  species 

Halicoryne  wrightii,  "sea-club  alga."  A 
marine  green  alga  from  Dutch  East  Indies 
and  from  the  Philippines.  The  genus  is 
known  throughout  the  warm,  tropical  seas 
and  four  species  are  found  in  the 
Caribbean.  The  body  of  the  plant  is 
covered  with  a  thin  layer  of  carbonates. 

of  sloths  in  Central  America  may  be 
distinguished  by  the  different  species 
of  algae  that  grow  on  their  hair. 

Algae  that  precipitate  calcium  and 
carbonate  ions  from  the  sea  water 
build  hard,  limy  coverings.  These  algae 
are  extremely  important  as  rock-building 
organisms  and  are  responsible  for  the 
formations  of  many  limestones 
throughout  geologic  history,  especially 
reef  deposits.  In  addition  to  forming 
their  own  masses  they  also  act  as  the 
cement  that  binds  together  the 
skeletons  of  invertebrate  animals.  It  is 
no  surprise,  therefore,  that  these  plants 
have  left  an  extensive  fossil  record 

and  are  extensively  studied  by 

Algae  as  a  group  provide  the  earliest 
evidence  of  life  on  earth,  and  are  the 
most  ancient  group  of  living  things 
known.  The  oldest  algae-like  fossils 
are  about  three  billion  years  old!  Since 
they  represent  the  first  documented 
life  on  earth  they  are  from  the 
evolutionary  viewpoint  extremely 

If  only  our  giant  could  search  the 
outcrops  of  rocks  and  find  the  places 
where  remnants  of  past  life  are 
preserved,  then  he  would  rejoice  in  the 
discovery  of  the  past  history  of  our 
planet  and  the  life  which  existed  on  it. 
But,  by  a  singular  paradox,  the 
processes  which  gave  us  the  lands 
also  turned  the  sediments  into  rocks, 
changed  their  composition  and  made 
them  into  marbles  and  schist,  hiding 
the  records  from  the  seeker,  and 
altering  the  organic  remains  into  their 
byproducts.  Thus,  all  but  scanty 
evidence  was  destroyed. 

And  yet,  when  we  look,  when  we 
carefully  comb  the  rocks,  we  find 
shapes  that  are  varied,  some 
recognizable,  some  with  strange  forms 
that  do  not  exist  any  more.  Some  of 
these  finds  are  fossils  of  a  common 
nature,  abundant,  obtainable  by  the 
"bushel,"  others  are  rare.  Some  are  so 
delicate  that  they  require  special 
treatment;  some  are  so  preserved  that 
they  need  the  strength  of  machines 
and  endless  hours  to  prepare  for 

Bulletin     February  1971 

study.  Among  many  fossils  some 
become  more  important — because  they 
explain  more,  they  possess  some 
characteristics  absent  in  other 
specimens— and  hence  instantly 
become  more  interesting  and 
meaningful.  The  fossil,  in  brief,  reflects 
the  image  of  life  as  it  once  was. 

Algae  in  the  19th  century,  and  among 
many  persons  even  today,  have  been 
considered  less  vital  than  most  other 
plants  and  animals,  and  are  usually 
deprecated  as  seaweed,  pond  scum, 
and  kelp.  But  algae  as  a  group  are 
important,  as  we  have  seen,  not  only 
because  they  represent  the  first 
documented  life  on  earth  but  also 
because  they  produce  most  of  the 
food  and  oxygen  necessary  for  life  on 
earth.  In  addition,  algae  are  becoming 
economically  important  and  great 
quantities  of  them  are  used  for  human 
consumption  particularly  in  Japan. 
They  may  possibly  become  a  future 
source  of  food  for  the  ever-growing 
and  hungry  human  population.  They 
are  already  used  as  a  source  of 

f^h'.i  I  \  ,.  i  i 


Neomeris  van-bosseae.  When  examined  in 
the  Museum  dry  collection,  this  alga 
does  not  look  like  a  plant  at  all  because 
its  attractive  white  outer  calcareous  cortex 
resembles  an  animal's  exterior  skeleton. 
Under  this  hard  covering  are  whorls  of 
white  branches  that  expand  at  their  ends. 

potassium  and  iodine,  and  for  treatment 
of  sewage  in  certain  localities. 

On  his  long  way  home,  our 
extraterrestrial  visitor  will  hold  in  his 
possession  a  few  vials  of  small,  barely 
green,  calcareous,  tubular,  whorled 
algae  from  the  tropical  seas  of  the 
earth.  And  he'll  wonder  over  these 
strange  benefactors  of  apparent 
simplicity  and  beauty  that  together  with 
untold  numbers  of  other  algae  since 
time  immemorial  have  endlessly  and 
continuously  provided  the  source  of 
food  and  oxygen  to  the  inhabitants  of 
the  earth. 

He  will  learn  now  that  nature  manifests 
beauty  of  the  highest  degree  in  a 
multitude  of  forms — beauty  of  structure 
and  shape.  And  he'll  pause  over  this 
for  awhile.  Life  is  a  short  business 
when  dealing  with  an  individual 
organism.  It  is  somewhat  longer  when 
dealing  with  taxonomic  units  like 
species  and  genera.  Man  has  existed 
for  time  long  enough  to  have  a 
geologic  past — but  yet,  life  is  still  a 
very  fragile  thing.  Life  is  difficult  to 
study,  because  the  process  of  study 
itself  may  modify  or  kill  the  organism. 
But  life  on  the  geological  scale  is 
different;  the  organisms  are  gone,  but 
hard  skeletal  parts  remain.  Sometimes 
unaltered,  but  in  most  cases  replaced, 
recrystalized — but  yet  often  retaining 
most  of  the  original  details,  even  the 
color  pattern  may  be  preserved.  How 
many  of  us  have  stopped  to  think  that 
we  are  dealing  with  life  when  studying 
fossils?  Here  the  wonder  is  that  we 
have  in  front  of  us  the  record  of  life, 
represented  by  fragments,  from  which 
we  choose  to  reconstruct  the  whole  of 
the  evolutionary  path  of  organic 
history.  The  past  is  nebulous  and  we 
are  penetrating  it.  What  else  can  give 
greater  joy  than  to  unveil  the  unkown? 

Dr.  Matthew  H.  Nitecki  is  Associate 
Curator  of  Fossil  Invertebrates  in  Field 
Museum's  Department  ot  Geology. 

Calathella  anstedi.  A  half-billion-year-old 
(Lower  Ordovician)  green  calcareous  alga 
from  Newfoundland.  This  fossil  is  one  of  the 
oldest  "higher"  forms  of  algae  found. 
Its  outer  structure  is  very  complicated  and 
advanced,  and  the  alga  can  be  easily  placed 
in  a  class  of  well-known  living  green  algae. 

Bulletin     February  1971 


lands  of  fjords  and  the  midnight  sun 

Phil  Clark 

Most  persons,  in  quest  of  natural 
history  novelty  and  nuance,  think  of 
exotic  lands  in  southern  hemispheres, 
with  their  gaudy  flowering  trees  and 
brightly  plumed  birds. 

But  I  found  a  refreshing  view  of  flora, 
and  fauna,  and  peoples  during 
a  month's  visit  to  Scandinavia,  where 
I  programmed  a  natural  history  tour  for 
next  June.  It  sharpened  my  joy  in  our 
own  northern  American  flora  and 
avifauna;  there  was  so  much  subtle 
contrast  in  the  two  basically  similar 
ecological  systems. 

Other  sharper  contrasts  were  stimulating 
too.  The  great  Scandinavian  spruce-pine 
forests  and  the  birch-beech-poplar 
woodlands  still  stand,  even  though  they 
have  been  a  judiciously  used  source 
of  wealth  for  generations.  Rivers  are 
relatively  unpolluted  and  buildings, 
from  medieval  to  Victorian,  stand  well 
kept  in  mellow,  unsooted  harmony  with 
handsomely  modern  architecture  on 
clean  city  streets. 

The  most  exciting  fjord  I  saw  was  the 
greatest  of  them  all:  Norway's 
Sognefjord.  At  first  the  scenery  was 
similar  to  that  from  Stavanger  to  Bergen 

Thirteenth  century  Norwegian  stave  church 
in  Oslo's  Folkmuseum. 

— little  rocky  islets  from  which  clouds 
of  Lesser  Black  Back,  Herring  and 
Black  Headed  Gulls  rose  to  meet  us 
over  dark  seas.  Liver-colored  Calluna 
heather  hugged  the  wet,  black  rocks. 
And  at  one  islet  I  glimpsed  a  pair  of 
Golden-eyed  Ducks,  spending  the 
summer,  plump  and  happy. 

As  our  ship  neared  the  Sognefjord 
straits,  the  islands  grew  larger  and 
finally  we  steamed  through  a  great 
rocky  gateway,  its  sides  fleshed  with 
deep  green  spruce  and  white-boled 
Betula  pendula.  Finally,  near  the  fjord's 
inland  end,  a  day's  voyage  from 
Bergen,  I  spent  the  night  at  a  small  inn 
in  a  village  which  clustered  at  the  foot 
of  towering,  spruce-green  cliffs,  a  nest 
of  white-painted,  green-trimmed  houses. 

Wandering  by  foot  and  by  bus  the  next 
two  days  brought  many  a  thrill,  as  plant 
communities  changed  from  flowery 
meadows  edged  with  birch,  mountain 
ash,  willow  and  pine  in  the  valleys,  to 
forests  of  spire-tall  Norway  spruce  on 
the  mountain  sides  and  to  ground- 
hugging  silvery-leaved  willows  and 
dark  junipers,  dwarfed  both  by 
mountain  winds  and  by  inherent  traits. 
These  fringed  the  bald,  gray  tundra, 
where  glacial  snows  gleamed  in  cold 
ovals  and  dark  lakes  gushed  into 
streams  that  tumbled,  foaming  over 
rocky  cliffs  and  down  to  the  fjord,  miles 

In  Oslo,  the  folk  museum  made  me  feel 
that  I  had  known  this  well-kept  land  for 
generations.  Here  I  walked  through 
a  spruce-birch  forest  from  one  village 
to  another,  each  typical  of  an  era 
and  an  area — and  all  the  buildings, 
planks,  tiles  and  all,  brought  from  sites 
throughout  Norway. 

The  idea  of  the  midnight  sun  moved 
me  as  little  as  some  remote  solar 
eclipse  .  .  .  until  I  experienced  its 
surprising  nocturnal  light.  This  was  in 
a  ship  on  cold  Lake  Inari,  far  north  of 
the  Arctic  Circle  in  northern  Finland. 
Here  was  a  different  and  an  exciting 
world  of  the  mysterious  Lapps  and  their 


Bulletin     February  1971 

Gustav  Vigeland  nudes  in  Oslo's  Frogner 

great  herds  of  reindeer  wandering 
free  over  vast  nniles  of  gray  tundra. 

Connprehensive  exhibits  at  Helsinki's 
National  Museum  added  the 
knowledge-dimension  that  only  actual 
objects  can,  to  my  understanding  of  the 
prehistory,  history  and  art  of  a  creative 
people,  the  Finns.  Their  origins 
shrouded  in  a  mystery  lighted  only  by 
linguistic  connections  with  the  Magyars 
and  the  Esthonians,  the  Finns  came 
early  to  this  northern  land,  then  peopled 
only  by  the  primitive  Lapps,  from 
Esthonia  across  the  Bay. 

Feeling  for  design  is  everywhere  evident 
in  Helsinki's  architecture,  from  its 
classical  central  square  to  the  romantic 
buildings  of  the  early  part  of  this 
century  and  climaxing  in  the 
magnificent  garden  suburbs  which 
cluster  on  Helsinki's  outskirts:  in 
particular,  elegantly  simple  and 
functionally  practical  Tapeola. 

But  In  prosperous,  sensibly-ordered 
Sweden  is  what  I  believe  the  most 
beautiful  temperate  world  city: 
Stockholm,  spreading  from  Baltic 
islands  to  mainland.  Its  copper-green, 
spike-spired  churches,  its  medieval 
and  revival  castles,  its  elaborate  pubHc 

buildings  of  the  last  century  and  its 
architecture  of  the  twenties — clean-lined 
yet  resonant  of  the  national  past:  all 
these  exist  in  lovely  harmony  with 
glass  and  steel  modern  buildings.  And 
they  front  on  mostly  broad,  clean 
avenues,  frequently  interrupted  by 
parks  and  squares — flowery,  green, 
rich  in  sculpture  and  furnished  with 
inviting  benches  and  outdoor 

All  this  architectural  harmony  and 
beauty  is  no  accident,  for  new 
construction  or  demolition  of  old 
buildings  in  Stockholm  must  first  be 
approved  by  a  committee  charged  with 
protecting  and  increasing  the  city's 

For  the  artist  and  the  garden  lover, 
Stockholm  offers  an  unusual  joy  in 
Mines'  Garden,  on  the  rocky  cliffside  of 
the  Island  of  Lidingo. 

On  the  Swedish  island  of  Gotland,  I 
found  something  of  interest  for  every 
natural  history  taste.  At  the  wildflower 
preserve  of  Allekvia,  midst  pines  and 
flowery  meadow,  grow  several  species 
of  terrestrial  orchids  including  Orchis 
sambucina,  Habenaria  bifolia  and 
Cypripedium  calceolus — closely  related 

Bulletin     February  1971 


Visby,  capital  of  the  Swedish  island  of 


to  our  large  yellow  moccasin.  Bronze 
age  man,  about  1000  BC,  in  forested 
glades  and  near  tfie  sea,  built  great 
rock  outlines  of  sfiips  over  burials — 
magic  vessels  to  bear  tfie  departed  to 
Aasgaard.  On  Stora  Karlso  island  off 
Gotland,  New  Stone  Age  man,  2500 
BC,  left  cave  dwellings.  On  the  same 
island,  I  found  many  sea  birds, 
including  colonies  of  guillemots,  shags 
and  razorbills.  Gotland's  principal  city, 
Visby,  has  some  handsome  medieval 

Few  Gothic  cathedrals  equal  the 
majesty  of  Uppsala's  great  Cathedral, 
where  the  bones  of  St.  Erik  the  King, 
martyred  in  Uppsala  in  1160,  lie  in  a 
golden  box  in  the  high  altar.  The  13th 
century  Cathedral  stands  over  what 
was  probably  the  greatest  religious 
center  of  pagan  Scandinavia,  when  the 
one-eyed  god,  Odin,  reigned  supreme 
(he  traded  the  eye  for  the  gift  of 

This  university  city  also  is  a  place  of 
almost  reverent  inspiration  for  botanists. 
It  is  here  where  Carl  von  Linne 
(founder  of  the  Linnaean  system  of 
nomenclature  and  classification)  lived 
and  carried  out  his  studies,  using  a 

botanic  garden  which  has  been 
carefully  kept  as  he  knew  it.  In  nearby 
Hammarby,  Linnaeus'  gracious  country 
home  and  woodland  is  maintained.  The 
botanic  gardens  of  Uppsala,  given  by 
Gustav  III  to  the  University  in  1786,  are 
today  immaculately  kept  and  artistically 

Further  south,  just  across  from 
Denmark,  is  Helsingborg.  Nearby  are 
some  of  the  most  beautifully  designed 
gardens  in  Europe:  Norrviken  Gardens 
at  Bastad.  The  gardens'  creator,  Rudolf 
Abelin,  was  a  landscape  architect  and 
at  the  turn  of  the  century  he  began 
developing  these  varied  gardens  for 
his  own  pleasure.  All  undisguisedly 
Swedish,  they  nonetheless  convey  the 
moods  of  Japanese,  Cloister,  Baroque, 
Renaissance  and  Romantic  gardens. 
The  exotic  moods  are  there,  but  they 
link  to  the  Swedish  setting  of  sea  and 
rolling  hills.  Another  masterful  garden, 
this  is  Helsingborg  itself,  is  the  royal 
garden  of  Sofiero,  where  sprightly, 
87-year-old  King  Gustav  VI  Adolf  often 
indulges  in  his  gardening  hobby  (he  is 
also  an  active  archaeology  buff). 

A  few  minutes  by  ferry  and  I  was  in 
Denmark,  at  Elsinor,  where  Shakespeare 
set  his  tragedy  at  Kronberg  Castle,  but 
this  turreted  16th  Century  Dutch 
Renaissance  castle  was  built  by 
Frederik  II  centuries  after  the  historical 
Hamlet.  In  Copenhagen  I  found  another 
impressive  castle,  this  the  creation  of 
Christian  IV  in  1606.  Its  gardens  blend 
from  one  style  to  another,  herbaceous 
border,  knot  garden  and  park-estate. 

But  garden  landscaping  isn't  the  only 
thing  that  rivets  the  eye  in  Denmark. 
The  design  of  jewelry,  tableware,  glass, 
chairs — almost  everything  that  beguiles 
from  the  shop  windows  along 
Copenhagen's  pedestrian  street 
shopping  area.  And  what  can  compare 
for  gaity  to  an  evening  in  the  Tivoli 
Entertainment  Park? 

Phil  Clark  is  Chief  of  Field  Museum 
Natural  History  Tours. 


Bulletin     February  1971 


Resources  and  Man 

by  Committee  on  Resources  and  Man 

of  the  National  Research  Council  of  the 

National  Academy  of  Sciences. 

San  Francisco,  Freeman  &  Co.  (1969). 


With  each  new  famine  somewhere  in 
the  world,  with  each  new  medical 
advance  that  adds  a  new  control  on 
death  without  a  commensurate  control 
on  birth,  the  specter  of  world 
overpopulation  becomes  more  and 
more  evident  even  to  the  most 
oblivious  observer.  Will  mankind 
choose  quantity  of  life  at  the  expense 
of  its  quality,  or  the  reverse?  Indeed,  is 
there  still  a  chance  to  make  such  a 
choice?  Over  the  past  few  years  these 
questions  have  been  bandied  about 
with  a  high  degree  of  emotionalism  on 
both  sides.  This  book,  Resources  and 
Man,  details,  with  almost  complete 
lack  of  emotion,  the  hard  numerical 
facts  on  both  sides  of  this  issue.  Eight 
experts  have  teamed  together,  each 
contributing  a  chapter,  to  address  the 
question  of  how  far  the  Earth's 
resources  will  stretch  to  accommodate 
a  population  that  is  presently  doubling 
itself  every  35  years! 

The  book  examines  four  major  areas: 
(1)  projected  population,  (2)  food 
resources,  (3)  mineral  resources, 
(4)  energy  resources.  Each  question  is 
handled  in  a  careful,  analytical  manner 
with  hard  numbers  and  definite 
conclusions  based  on  these  numbers. 
Thus,  it  is  not  a  book  for  casual 
reading,  nor  is  it  for  the  person  who 
seeks  vague  generalizations.  Some  of 
the  specific  conclusions  are  worth 

stating  in  this  review:  (1)  The  oceans 
are  not  a  "cornucopia"  of  mineral 
wealth,  and  never  will  be.  (2)  Contrary 
to  popular  opinion,  the  oceans  will 
never  be  a  major  world  food  supply. 
They  can  supply  at  most  only  2.5  times 
their  present  output  of  food  products. 
At  best  they  can  become  a 
supplementary  source  for  much-needed 
protein,  but  never  for  food  calories  (i.e. 
carbohydrates  and  fats).  (3)  Petroleum 
and  natural  gas  will  be  expended  in 
about  100  years.  Coal  could  last  400 
years,  unless  we  use  it  to  replace 
petroleum,  in  which  case,  it  would  last 
at  most  200  years.  (4)  The  only 
long-term  source  of  energy  will  be 
nuclear  power  but  only  if  we  redesign 
our  present  power  reactors  to 

Some  of  the  authors  in  this  book 
clearly  have  worked  harder  at  their 
respective  contributions  than  others. 
The  chapter  by  Thomas  Levering  on 
"Mineral  Resources  from  the  Land"  is 
disappointing  because  he  spends  most 
of  his  time  in  a  belabored  discussion 
on  the  problems  involved  in  making 
mineral-resource  projections.  This 
identical  kind  of  problem  is,  of  course, 
faced  by  most  of  the  other  authors, 
who,  nevertheless,  state  their  methods 
and  limitations  and  proceed  to  their 
respective  assignments.  The  chapter  by 
Marston  Bates  on  "The  Human 
Ecosystem"  is  completely  qualitative 
and  is  more  philosophical  in  approach. 
Its  position,  as  Chapter  1 ,  however, 
serves  to  delimit  the  areas  to  be 
considered.  Chapter  2,  "Interactions 
between  Man  and  His  Resources," 
consists  of  a  series  of  vague, 
qualitative,  sociological  generalizations 
and  is  entirely  out  of  place  in  a  book 
of  this  kind.  The  chapters  by 
S.  Hendricks,  P.  Cloud,  N.  Keyfitz,  and 
W.  Ricker  are  excellent  and  workmanlike. 
The  final  chapter  (8)  by  M.  K.  Hubbert 
on  "Energy  Resources"  is  outstanding 
and  is  the  finest  exposition  on  this 
subject  available  to  the  general  reader. 
It  covers  all  possibilities  for  large-scale 
energy  generation  (except  wood-burning 
and  wind)  in  a  thorough  and 
quantitative  manner,  and  draws  together 
a  huge  range  of  source  material  on 
this  subject. 

For  the  reader  who  is  critically 
interested  in  these  questions  and  wishes 
to  have  the  best  summation  of 

quantitative  information  available  this 
book  is  highly  recommended.  The 
pessimist  will  find  here  a  great  deal  of 
quantitative  justification  to  fortify  his 
gloom;  however,  the  optimist  will  not 
find  himself  vanquished  by  the  data. 
A  few  gleams  of  hope  are  seen:  falling 
birth  rates  in  some  Asiatic  countries 
over  the  last  decade;  possibilities  for 
increased  yields  of  some  crops  in  some 
places  in  the  world;  nuclear  fission 
(breeder)  reactors,  and  eventually 
fusion  reactors,  which  are  capable  of 
providing  energy  for  literally  thousands 
of  years. 

The  introduction  (unsigned)  to  this  book 
should  be  read  both  before  and  again 
after  completing  the  book.  In  it  are 
detailed  twenty-six  very  specific 
recommendations  to  establish  policies 
that  will  wisely  stretch  resources  as  far 
as  possible  into  the  future. 

Many  years  ago  Winston  Churchill 
posed  a  question  regarding  the 
impending  fall  of  Britannia  as  a  world 
power.  If,  in  the  end,  uncontrolled 
population  demands  cause  mankind  to 
outstretch  its  earthly  resources  and 
Civilization  herself  tumbles,  we  will 
again  have  cause  to  ask  the  same 
question:  "Did  she  fall — or  was  she 

by  Dr.  Edward  J.  Olsen,  curator  of 
mineralogy,  Field  Museum 

Bulletin     February  1971 



To  the  Editor: 

I  believe  you  have  made  a  mistake  in  your 
story  of  the  Origin  of  Skeletons  in  animals 
In  the  December  Bulletin  on  the  chart.  It 
says  man  has  been  on  the  earth  for 
two  million  years.  Well,  you  may  be 
mistaken,  man  has  been  on  the  earth 
between  eight  and  15  million  years  ago, 
and  I  have  proof. 

On  page  4  paragraph  2  In  the  1970  Young 
Peoples  World  Book  Science  Supplement 
quotes  "after  examination  of  fossil  teeth 
and  jaws  which  had  lain  in  the  collections 
of  the  Calcutta  and  British  Museums  for 
many  years,  Drs.  Elwyn  L.  Simons  and 
David  B.  Pilbean,  both  of  Yale  University, 
assigned  them  to  a  manlike  homonid 
that  lived  in  India  and  Africa  between  eight 
and  15  million  years  ago."  They  took 
radiocarbon  tests  on  the  bones  in 
California  in  1969. 

In  California,  Dr.  Ales  Hrdlicka  of  the 
U.S.  National  Museum  was  convinced  that 
man  had  not  reached  the  Americas 
earlier  than  2,000  years  ago.  Researchers 
at  the  Los  Angeles  County  Museum  of 
Natural  History  announced  in  1969  that  a 
skull  of  a  woman  in  the  La  Brea  tar  pits 
had  been  tested  by  means  of  radiocarbon. 
It  turned  out  that  the  skull  was  9,000 
years  old,  more  than  four  times  more  than 
what  Dr.  Ales  Hrdlicka  had  said. 

I  hope  this  will  prove  what  I  have  said, 
we  should  keep  our  minds  open  for  further 
proof  of  man's  existence. 

Charles  Matza,  Jr. 

The  author  replies: 

Charles  Matza  has  been  misled  by  some 
tricky  terminology.  The  "man-like  homonid" 
he  refers  to  has  been  considered  to  be 
a  member  of  the  same  family  as  man,  but 

not  yet  a  man  (that  is,  of  the  genus 
Homo).  One  must  be  arbitrary  in  drawing 
a  line  between  man  and  apes,  and  for 
this  reason  the  date  of  two  million  years 
on  my  chart  is  also  only  approximate 
and  arbitrary. 

As  to  his  other  point,  man  was  certainly 
in  the  Americas  well  before  the  9,000  year 
date  assigned  to  the  La  Brea  skull,  but 
here  we  are  talking  of  thousands,  not 
millions,  of  years. 

Robert  H.  Denison 

(Dr.  Denison  recently  retired  from  Field 
Museum,  having  served  as  Curator  of  Fossil 
Fishes  in  the  Museum's  Department  of 
Geology  for  the  past  22  years.) 

To  the  editor: 

The  Bulletin's  recent  article  on  turtles  in 
mythology  and  folklore  contained  much 
interesting  material,  but  it  did  not  explore 
the  roles  of  the  turtle  in  ancient  Egyptian 
religion.  Apparently,  from  prehistory  (before 
c.  3000  BC  in  Egypt)  through  the  Middle 
Kingdom  and  subsequent  troubled  interlude 
(c.  2000-1575  BC)  turtles  were  good  luck; 
many  turtle  figurines  were  made  throughout 
that  span,  some  used  as  burial  objects. 
Probably  the  protective  shell  and  ability  to 
withdraw  and  emerge  caused  turtles  to  be 
associated  with  preservation  and 
resurrection;  this  idea  survived  in  a 
passage  from  the  later  Book  of  the  Dead, 
"I  have  become  Khepri  (rising  sun).  I  have 
germinated  as  plants;  I  have  covered/ 
clothed  myself  as  a  turtle." 

That  spell  was  written  when  the  turtle  had 
already  been  redefined  as  an  enemy,  and 
it  shows  the  conservative  tendency  of 
Egypt's  faith  which  resulted  in  the  retaining 
of  contradictions!  During  the  New  Kingdom 
and  later  periods  (from  c.  1575  BC)  the 
formula  "May  Re  (sun-god)  live  and  the 
turtle  die!"  was  constantly  reiterated  on 

tomb  walls  and  in  funerary  papyri,  often 
illustrated  by  the  deceased  spearing  a 
turtle.  According  to  Dr.  Henry  Fischer's 
excellent  study  Ancient  Egyptian 
Representations  ot  Turtles  (New 
York  1968),  the  turtle  was  cast  as  the  Sun's 
antagonist  because  of  the  exceedingly 
furtive  and  somewhat  nocturnal  habits  of 
the  Egyptian  river  turtle  Trionyx  niloticus, 
which  eventually  impressed  the  people 
more  than  the  sturdiness  and  renewing. 
(Dr.  Fischer  finds  one  anti-turtle  spell 
already  in  the  Coffin  Texts,  the  Middle 
Kingdom  predecessor  of  the  Book  of  the 
Dead,  just  as  we  have  seen  a  recollection 
of  that  reptile's  originally  good  role  in  the 
latter  body  of  texts.) 

Turtle  amulets  had  been  discontinued 
during  the  early  New  Kingdom  (indeed, 
some  old  ones  were  disfigured  upon 
rediscovery);  they  were  resumed  c.  700 
BC,  but  these  were  made  to  ward  off 
turtles.  The  late  period  featured  many 
charms  of  dangerous  and  noxious  beasts 
based  on  a  common  magical  principle  ot 
homeopathy,  or  like  guarding  against  like. 

Edmund  S.  Metzer 

Please  address  all  letters  to  the  editor  to 


Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 
Roosevelt  Road  and  Lake  Shore  Drive 
Chicago,  Illinois  60605 

The  editors  reserve  the  right  to  edit 
letters  for  length. 


Bulletin     February  1971 

Lester  Armour,  1895  - 1970 

Lester  Armour,  long-time  banker  and 
philanthropist,  and  a  member  of  the  Board 
of  Trustees  of  Field  Museum  since  1939, 
passed  away  on  December  26  at  the  age  of 
75.  Through  the  years,  he  served  as  a 
member  of  the  Building  and  Nominating 
Committees,  and  since  1962  on  the  Finance 
Committee,  offering  his  help  and  guidance 
In  many  matters  vitally  affecting  the 
Museum.  He  vi^as  a  Corporate  Member,  Life 
Member  and  Contributor  of  Field  Museum. 

In  1935  Mr.  Armour  retired  from  the  meat 
packing  business  founded  by  his 
grandfather,  where  he  had  held  the  position 
of  Executive  Vice  President.  Later  he 
became  Vice  Chairman  of  the  Board  of  the 
Harris  Trust  &  Savings  Bank,  a  post  he  held 
until  1963. 

Lester   Armour 

Mr.  Armour  was  one  of  three  prominent 
business  men  appointed  public  advisers  to 
the  Midwest  Stock  Exchange  In  1965  by 
members  of  the  Exchange's  Board  of 

Among  his  many  humanitarian  activities,  Mr. 
Armour  supported  the  Salvation  Army  for 
many  years  and  was  a  member  of  its 
advisory  board.  He  was  former  Chairman  of 
the  Board  of  Trustees  of  the  Illinois  Institute 
of  Technology,  and  a  member  of  the  Board 
at  the  time  of  his  death. 

Dr.  Lewis  Back  from  New  Ireland 

Dr.  Phillip  Lewis,  curator  of  primitive  art  and 
Melanesian  ethnology  at  the  Field  Museum 
of  Natural  History  in  Chicago,  has  returned 
from  a  yearlong  expedition  to  the  Melanesian 
Island  of  New  Ireland  in  the  Territory  of 
Papua  and  New  Guinea,  where  he  was 
studying  art  in  its  social  context.  This  trip 
was  sponsored  jointly  by  the  Museum  and 
the  National  Science  Foundation. 

This  is  Dr.  Lewis'  second  trip  to  New 
Ireland,  the  first  having  taken  place  in 
1953-54,  when  on  a  Fulbright  Scholarship 
to  the  Australian  National  University  in 
Canberra,  he  was  enabled  to  study  art  in 
context  in  New  Ireland.  Since  1954  he  has 
been  studying  museum  collections  from 
New  Ireland  in  European,  Australian  and 
U.S.  museums,  including  those  of  the  Field 
Museum,  which  has  the  second  largest  New 
Ireland  collection  among  world  museums — 
about  2700  pieces.  In  1970  he  showed 
photos  of  these  museum  specimens,  which 
had  been  collected  over  the  past  100  years, 
to  New  Irelanders  in  order  to  learn  more 
about  them,  he  observed  modern  versions 
of  their  major  memorial  ceremonial,  called 
malanggan,  and  he  studied  social  changes 
in  the  same  village  visited  in  1954  and 
again  in  1970. 

Lewis  found  that  the  art  of  making  the 
carved  and  painted  wooden  images  (called 
malanggan,  also)  is  virtually  dead,  but  that 
the  ceremonies  still  flourish,  but  without  the 
carving.  Concrete  gravestones  are  now 
made  and  they  are  supplanting  the  formerly 
made  wooden  carvings.  "A  sad  fact  is," 
said  Lewis,  "that  just  at  the  time  [now] 
when  New  Irelanders  are  affluent  enough  to 
sponsor  large  and  complex  memorial 
celebrations,  there  aren't  enough  carvers 
still  operating  to  be  supported  by  the  new 
wealth,  so  it  goes  into  the  expanding  system 
of  new-style  memorials,  i.e.,  with  concrete 
grave  markers." 

Dr.  Lewis  is  planning  a  book  on  New 
Ireland  art  which  will  incorporate  the  field 
observations  of  modern  social  context  which 
have  a  direct  bearing  on  how  the  art  was 
made  and  used  in  earlier  times. 

Geology  Field  Trip  to  Ozarks 

Dr.  Matthew  H.  Nitecki,  associate  curator, 
Department  of  Geology,  will  conduct  a  field 
trip  to  the  Ozarks  April  4-10.  This  region  that 
cuts  across  parts  of  Arkansas,  Missouri,  and 
Oklahoma  is  a  diversified  geological  area  of 
igneous  and  sedimentary  rocks,  some  at 
least  one  billion  years  old.  The  sea  covered 
the  area  many  times,  depositing 
predominantly  limey  sediments  which  later 
became  sedimentary  rock.  Other  geological 
processes  produced  deposits  of  mineable 
ores,  particularly  lead  and  iron.  A  wide 

variety  of  geological  phenomena  will  be 
studied  in  the  field,  and  fossils  and  minerals 
can  be  collected  in  the  mines  and  quarries. 

Anyone  interested  in  joining  this 
nontechnical  field  trip  should  phone  Mrs. 
Maria  Matyas,  University  of  Chicago 
Extension,  at  Financial  6-8300  for  further 
information.  Members  of  the  Museum  are 
eligible  for  a  discount. 

New  Hall  of  Jades 

Field  Museum's  famous  collection  of 
Chinese  jades  will  again  go  on  display  in 
October  in  a  setting  befitting  its  standing  as 
one  of  the  finest  in  the  United  States.  Mrs. 
John  L.  Kellogg,  who  has  contributed  so 
much  to  the  cultural  life  of  the  city,  is 
making  the  new  installation  possible  through 
her  generous  gift.  In  appreciation  of  her 
gift  and  as  a  memorial  to  her  husband,  this 
hall  will  be  named  "The  John  L.  and  Helen 
Kellogg  Hall." 

During  the  past  year  and  a  half  that  the  Hall 
of  Jades  has  been  closed  to  the  public, 
extensive  remodeling  plans  have  been 
underway  for  the  new  hall.  Mrs,  Thomas 
Yuhas,  who  completed  her  M.A.  in  Asian  art 
history  at  the  University  of  Michigan,  spent 
one  year  at  Field  Museum  researching  and 
authenticating  the  collection  under  the 
supervision  of  Dr.  Kenneth  M.  Starr,  former 
curator  of  Asian  archaeology  and  ethnology. 

Hundreds  of  the  choicest  and  most 
representative  jades  from  the  Neolithic 
period  through  the  Ch'ing  Dynasty 
(1644-1912  AD.)  were  selected.  They  will 
be  installed  in  recessed  display  areas  that 
are  specially  lighted  to  bring  out  the  details 
and  subtleties  of  each  object. 

Porcelains,  bronzes,  scrolls,  rubbings, 
ceramics  and  poetry  will  supplement  the 
jades  in  the  new  hall,  putting  them  into 
proper  historical  perspective  and  showing 
how  the  symbolism  of  a  dynastic  period 
carried  through  in  various  art  forms. 
Carpeting  and  teak  walls  will  set  off  the 
displays  ^nd  contribute  to  a  contemplative 

A  sensitively  carved  small  jade  horse  from  the  Sung 
Dynasty  (960-1279  A.D.)  is  Infused  with  a  feeling  for 
the  spirit  of  the  animal. 

Bulletin     February  1971 


NSF  Grant  for  "The  Flora  of  Guatemala" 

Field  Museum  of  Natural  History  tias  been 
awarded  a  grant  of  $44,000  by  the  National 
Science  Foundation  to  support  continuing 
research  entitled  "The  Flora  of  Guatemala." 
The  grant,  to  run  two  years,  is  under  the 
direction  of  Dr.  Louis  O.  Williams,  chairman 
of  the  Department  of  Botany. 

According  to  Dr.  Williams,  when  completed. 
"The  Flora  of  Guatemala"  will  be  the  first 
comprehensive  and  modern  account  of  the 
plant  life  of  any  large  region  of  the 
American  tropics.  It  will  serve  as  important 
reference  material  for  scientists  in  other 
fields  who  need  to  know  about  the 
vegetation  of  the  area. 

Eleven  volumes  of  the  flora  covering 
flowering  plants,  ferns  and  mosses  are 
finished  at  present,  representing  thirty  years 
of  research.  It  is  estimated  that  four  more 
years  are  needed  to  complete  the  final  four 

National  Institute  of  Ecology  Launched 

Detailed  plans  for  a  National  Institute  of 
Ecology  were  presented  to  a  meeting  of  the 
Institute's  founders  at  Field  Museum, 
December  30,  1970.  The  Institute,  as  a 
research,  policy  study,  information  clearing- 
house, and  public  education  institution, 
should  strongly  advance  our  understanding 
of  ecology  and  help  us  reverse  our 
increasing  degradation  of  the  environment. 
The  Museum  is  one  of  the  founders,  along 
with  some  thirty-five  universities,  other 
natural  history  museums,  laboratories, 
research  and  development  institutions,  and 
oceanographic  institutes.  Dr.  Robert  F. 
Inger,  chairman  of  scientific  programs,  has 
been  deeply  involved  in  the  planning  work, 
begun  in  1968  by  a  study  committee  of  the 
Ecological  Society  of  America,  with  financial 
support  from  the  National  Science 
Foundation.  Henry  S.  Dybas,  head.  Division 
of  Insects,  has  been  appointed  Museum 
representative  to  the  Institute,  and  Dr. 
Rupert  L.  Wenzel,  chairman.  Department  of 
Zoology,  is  alternate. 

The  Society  had  been  concerned  since 
1965,  well  before  the  term  ecology  became 
an  everyday  word,  about  the  fact  that 
existing  information  concerning  the 
ecological  hazards  of  much  public  and 
private  activity  is  not  getting  through  to 
either  governmental  agencies  or  the  public. 
It  was  no  less  concerned  about  the  present 
and  future  needs  for  new  knowledge  to 
predict  the  ecological  effects  of  new 
technology.  Since  then  almost  everyone  has 
at  least  become  aware  that  large-scale  use 
of  herbicides  in  Vietnam,  SSTs  in  the  skies, 
and  oil  spills  in  any  body  of  water  must 
have  immediate,  probably  enduring,  and  in 
the  long  run  possibly  unendurable 
environmental  consequences. 

The  Institute  will  have  six  components.  One 
will  be  a  laboratory  to  conduct  basic 
ecological  research  of  scope  beyond  the 
capacity  of  existing  agencies.  An  office  of 
forecasting  and  planning  will  assist  other 
agencies,  public  and  private,  in  use  of 
existing  ecological  knowledge  to  predict 
and  thus  make  practical  plans  to  avoid 
localized  ecological  problems.  A  division  of 
policy  research  will  work  to  bridge  the  gap 
between  fundamental  ecological  knowledge 
and  responsible  public  policy  and  social 
action.  An  office  of  information  resources 
will  be  a  centralized  clearinghouse 
providing  comprehensive  library  services, 
computational  services,  and  inventories  of 
ecological  research  in  progress.  A  division 
of  communication  and  education  will  build 
lines  of  two-way  communication  between 
ecologists  and  all  segments  of  the  public, 
including  other  scientists,  public  and  private 
decision-makers,  and  the  general  public.  A 
division  of  biome  modeling  and  synthesis 
will  have  primary  responsibility  for  planning 
and  coordinating  scientific  activities,  and 
will  provide  research  assistance  to  outside 

A  mixture  of  public  and  private  funds 
derived  from  both  grants  and  income  from 
contractual  services  will  support  the 
Institute,  so  that  it  can  be  independent  of 
any  governmental  or  private  agency 
(including  its  parent  organization,  the 
Ecological  Society  of  America). 

Student  Anthropology  Program 

Field  Museum  has  been  awarded  a  grant  of 
$8,705  from  the  National  Science 
Foundation  for  support  of  its  Student 
Science  Training  Program  in  Anthropology, 
scheduled  for  June  28  through  August  6. 
The  course  is  under  the  direction  of  Miss 
Harriet  Smith  of  the  Museum's  Department 
of  Education. 

The  six-week  program  is  a  unique  one  in 
that  it  provides  a  sound  foundation  in  the 
various  fields  of  anthropology  and  is 
designed  to  assist  students  in  testing  a 
career  interest.  It  is  open  to  27  high-ability 
high  school  students  who  have  just 
completed  their  junior  year.  Selection  will  be 
on  the  basis  of  academic  achievement, 
recommendations  of  teachers  and  personal 

In  its  eighth  year,  the  training  course 
includes  lectures  by  outstanding  authorities, 
seminars,  workshops,  research  projects, 
study  of  Museum  collections  and 
participation  in  an  archaeological 

Application  forms  are  available  from  high 
school  officials  or  Miss  Smith  and  must  be 
returned  to  Field  Museum  no  later  than 
March  15. 


JUNE  8 -JULY  2,  1971 

$2,405  (INCLUDES  A  $500 

Fjords,  outdoor  museums,  gardens, 
wildflowers,  birds,  archaeological  sites, 
architecture,  design,  Linnaeus'  gardens, 
great  cathedrals,  historic  palaces, 
opera,  midnight  sun  in  Lappland, 
reindeer:  Bergen,  Oslo,  Helsinki,  Tapiola, 
Lake  Inari,  Stockholm,  Gotland  Island, 
Uppsala,  Gothenburg,  Kattegat, 
Halsingborg,  Norrviken,  Sofiero, 
Bosjokloster,  Lund,  Helsinfors,  Copenhagen. 




Bulletin     February  1971 



Catalogue  of  the  Different  Specimens  of 
Cloth  Collected  in  the  Three  Voyages  of 
Captain  Cook,  to  the  Southern  Hemisphere. 

London,  Alexander  Shaw,  1787,  shown  in 
the  South  Lounge.  The  rare  copy  consists 
of  actual  tapa  cloth  specimens  collected 
during  Captain  Cook's  voyages  to  the 
South  Seas  (1768-1780).  The  volume  is  the 
gift  of  Mrs.  A.  W.  F.  Fuller.  Through 

Life  in  Other  Worlds?  An  exhibit  of  the 
Murchison  meteorite,  a  Type  II  carbonaceous 
chondrlte,  of  which  only  14  exist  out  of 
the  almost  2,000  known  meteorites. 
Recently,  amino  acids,  possible  building 
blocks  of  life,  have  been  reported  in  this 
meteorite.  South  Lounge.  Through  March  21. 

John  James  Audubon's  elephant  folio, 
"The  Birds  of  America,"  on  display  in  the 
North  Lounge.  A  different  plate  from  the 
rare,  first-edition  set  is  featured  each  day. 

"Exploring  Indian  Country,"  Winter  Journey 
for  Children.  The  free,  self-guided  tour 
enables  youngsters  to  see  American  Indians 
of  three  environments  as  the  early  explorers 
saw  them.  All  boys  and  girls  who  can  read 
and  write  may  participate.  Journey  sheets 
are  available  at  Museum  entrances.  Through 
March  9. 

7Sth  Anniversary  Exhibit:  A  Sense  of 
Wonder,  A  Sense  of  History,  A  Sense  of 
Discovery,  continues  indefinitely.  Exhibits 
relating  to  Field  Museum's  past  and  present 
and  current  research  projects  are  shown 
in  a  new  and  different  way.  Hall  3. 


9  a.m.  to  4  p.m.  Monday-Thursday 
9  a.m.  to  9  p.m.  Friday 
9  a.m.  to  5  p.m.  Saturday  and  Sunday 
and  February  1  and  15 

The  Museum  Library  is  open 
9  a.m.  to  4  p.m. 
Monday  through  Friday 

Begins  February  7 

26th  Chicago  international  Exhibition 
of  Nature  Photography,  featuring 

award-winning  photographic  prints. 
Sponsored  by  the  Nature  Camera  Club  of 
Chicago  and  Field  Museum.  South  Lounge. 
Through  February  28. 

February  7  and  February  14 

A  showing  of  prize-winning  transparencies 

from  the  26th  Chicago  International 
Exhibition  of  Nature  Photography,  2:30  p.m., 
James  Simpson  Theatre. 

Through  February  7 

A  Child  Goes  Forth,  an  exhibit  of  toys  and 
games  from  around  the  world,  examines 
their  importance  in  the  cultural  development 
of  children.  Hall  9. 


February  9,  7:45  p.m..  Nature  Camera  Club 
of  Chicago 

February  9,  8  p.m.,  Chicagoland  Glider 

February  10,  7  p.m.,  Chicago  Ornithological 

February  10,  7:30  p.m..  Windy  City  Grotto — 
National  Speleological  Society 

February  11,8  p.m.,  Chicago  Mountaineering 

February  14,  2  p.m.,  Chicago  Shell  Club 

February  21,  2  p.m.,  Illinois  Orchid  Society 

March  9,  7:45  p.m.,  Nature  Camera  Club 
of  Chicago 

March  9,  8  p.m.,  Chicagoland  Glider 

March  10,  7  p.m.,  Chicago  Ornithological 

March  10,  7:30  p.m.,  Windy  City  Grotto — 
National  Speleological  Society 

Coming  in  March 

Color  in  Nature,  an  exhibit  of  broad  scope, 
investigates  the  color  dimension  of  Field 
Museum's  huge  collections.  The  varieties  of 
color  in  nature  and  the  meaning  of 
coloration  in  plants  and  animals  are  closely 
examined.  March  10  through  October  10. 
Hall  25. 

"To  See  Or  Not  To  See,"  Spring  Journey 
for  Children,  begins  March  10.  Youngsters 
learn  about  the  diversity  of  colors  and  color 
patterns  of  selected  animals,  as  well  as 
the  advantages  of  mimicry  and  pigmentation 
changes,  with  the  aid  of  a  questionnaire. 
All  boys  and  girls  who  can  read  and  write 
may  participate  in  the  free  program.  Journey 
sheets  are  available  at  Museum  entrances. 
Through  May  31. 

March  6 

Spring  Film-Lecture  Series  resumes  with 
"The  New  Israel,"  narrated  by  Ray  Green. 
A  vivid  and  up-to-date  portrayal  of  this 
ancient  land  and  its  people,  that  is  a  blend 
of  the  past  and  the  present.  2:30  p.m., 
James  Simpson  Theatre. 

March  13 

Spring  Film-Lecture  Series  continues  with 
"The  Call  of  the  Running  Tide,"  narrated 
by  Stanton  Waterman.  Photographed  in  the 
islands  of  French  Polynesia,  much  of  it  on 
sea  bottom  and  along  barrier  reefs,  it  is  a 
revealing  study  of  the  inhabitants  and  the 
many  forms  of  sea-life  surrounding  them. 
2:30  p.m.,  James  Simpson  Theatre. 

March  20 

Spring  Film-Lecture  Series  presents 
"Uganda — Land  of  Stanley  and  Livingston," 
narrated  by  William  Stockdale.  Scenes  of 
wildlife,  the  wonders  of  national  parks  and 
the  people  in  the  cities  and  remote 
areas.  2:30  p.m.,  James  Simpson  Theatre. 

March  27 

Spring  Film-Lecture  Series  offers  "Sweden 
Year  Around,"  narrated  by  Ed  Lark.  All 
four  seasons  are  encompassed  in  this 
motion  picture  journey  to  the  land  of  the 
midnight  sun.  2:30  p.m.,  James  Simpson 



jiume  42,  Number  3 

iield  Museum  q|lif»tural  History 

11^  1 


■■|k^>rthe  patterning  of 
'^Fiuntan  behavior  might  be 
explained  by  the 
archaeological  record. 

Cover:  The  Revolution  in  Archaeology. 
Photo  at  right  courtesy  Institute  of  Design, 
Illinois  Institute  of  Technology. 


Volume  42,  Nunnber  3 
March  1971 

2    The  Revolution  in  Archaeology 

Paul  S.  Martin 

it  may  yield  results  that  help  to  explain  contemporary  world  problems 

8    International  Nature  Photography  Exhibition 

William  C.  Burger 

nature's  beauty  and  diversity  on  film 

12    Fieldiana 

Patricia  M.  Williams 

the  Museum's  contributions  to  science  that  the  public  seldom  sees 

14    Field  Briefs 

16    Letters 


Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 

Director,  E.  Leiand  Webber 

Editor  Joyce  Zibro;  Associate  Editor  Elizabeth  Munger;  Staff  Writer  Madge  Jacobs;  Production  Russ  Becker;  Photography  John  Bayalis, 
Fred  Huysmans. 

The  Bulletin  is  published  monthly  by  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605.  Subscrip- 
tions: $9  a  year;  $3  a  year  for  schools.  Members  of  the  Museum  subscribe  through  Museum  membership.  Opinions  expressed  by  authors 
are  their  own  and  do  not  necessarily  reflect  the  policy  of  Field  Museum.  Unsolicited  manuscripts  are  welcome.  Printed  by  Field  Museum 
Press.  Application  to  mail  at  second-class  postage  rates  is  pending  at  Chicago,  Illinois.  Postmaster:  Please  send  form  3579  to  Field  Museum 
of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605. 

Bulletin     March  1971 

The  Revolution, 





Up  to  and  including  1960,  I  pursued 
four  goals:  (1)  the  application  of 
palynology;  (2)  thie  closing  of  the  gaps 
in  the  archaeological  record  by 
working  in  relatively  unexplored  areas; 

(3)  a  historical  reconstruction  of  the 
relationship  between  the  prehistoric 
"cultures"  of  eastern  Arizona  and  the 
historic  Hopi  and  Zuni  cultures;  and 

(4)  the  establishment  of  a  stratigraphy 
of  traits  for  the  area. 

In  connmon  with  most  of  my  colleagues, 
I  had  emphasized  culture  traits,  trait 
lists,  histories  of  sites  and/or  areas — 
all  organized  in  a  time-space 
dimension.  I  entertained  the  illusion 
that  the  facts  would  speak  for 
themselves.  I  was  carrying  on  "normal 
science,"  or  solving  jig-saw  puzzles. 

Since  1960,  my  goals  and  interests 
have  been  modified  by  the  trend  that 
is  spreading  across  the  country — a 
trend  that  symbolizes  a  shift  from 
emphasis  on  particularisms  to  an 
imaginative  era  in  which  we  build  a 
cultural-materialist  research  strategy 
that  can  deal  with  the  questions  of 
causality  and  origins  and  laws.  The 
trend  toward  a  re-examination  of  goals, 
research  methodology,  and  paradigms 
seems  apparent  in  other  fields — 
sociology,  linguistics,  geology, 
biochemistry,  and  physical  anthropology 
— to  mention  only  a  few. 

As  a  result,  I  have  substantially  altered 
the  bearing,  emphasis,  and  procedures 
of  my  research.  Thus,  a  conceptual 
transformation,  a  revolution,  has  taken 
place  for  me. 

In  1961-62,  the  subject  matter  of  my 
researches  changed  slightly — to  wit:  I 
developed  the  desire  for  information 
on  cultural  ecology  of  eastern  Arizona; 
but  I  was  still  concerned  with  the 




historical  relationships  mentioned 
above.  Further,  I  expanded  my  interest 
in  the  stylistic  traits  of  the  "Snowflake 
culture"  in  Arizona  and  its  ties  with 
both  Its  Anasazi  and  its  Mogollon 

By  1963-64,  substantial  changes 
appeared  in  my  research  design.  I  was 
still  committed  to  the  old  stance  on 
writing  the  "culture  history"  of  our 
eastern  Arizona  area.  Two  new 
dimensions,  however,  were  added.  One 
was  theoretical;  it  consisted  of  focusing 
on  culture,  not  as  an  aggregation  of 
traits  but  as  an  adaptive  mechanism 
that  permitted  man  to  cope  with  the 
daily  problems  of  living.  The  facets  of 
culture  were  sub-divided:  (a) 
sociologic,  (b)  economic,  and  (c) 
ideologic.  The  other  dimension  was 
methodological.  It  was  concerned  with 
sophisticated  statistical  techniques, 
sampling,  statistical  models,  and 
computer  aid  at  all  levels  of  research. 
It  was  not,  as  is  naively  assumed, 
"computer  archaeology,"  for  there  is 
no  such  thing. 

These  shifts  hastened  to  displace  my 
old  interest  in  regional  cultural  history 
by  the  analysis  of  individual  sites  as 
socio-cultural  adaptations — as  on-going 
social  systems.  By  studying  the 
patterns  of  culture  represented  by  the 
distributions  of  artifacts  at  each  site,  I 
hoped  to  make  contributions  to 
anthropology.  In  1965,  many  of  these 
emerging  trends  had  become  more 
solid  and  firm.  If  a  site  represented  a 
once  flourishing  social  system,  I  felt 
we  should  analyze  it  by  asking 
questions  about  the  subsystems  of 
which  it  was  composed.  I  focused  not 
upon  traits  but  upon  the  patterned 
co-variation  of  groups  of  traits.  I 
studied  ecological,  sociological, 
technological,  economic,  and 
ideological  problems.  I  set  contributions 
to  the  understanding  of  human 
behavior  as  the  primary  goal. 

n  Archaeology 

Paul  S.  Martin 

I  now  feel  in  a  better  position  to  make 
contributions  to  anthropology.  I  now 
regard  the  use  of  logic  and  of  scientific 
methods  as  the  minimum  acceptable 
standard  for  good  archaeology.  By  this 
I  mean  the  procedure  of  advancing  a 
hypothesis  (defined  as  a  statement  of 
relationship  between  two  or  more 
variables)  to  explain  observed  data  or 
behavior.  By  the  interchange  of 
deduction  and  induction,  the  hypothesis 
can  and  must  be  tested  with 
independent  but  relevant  data.  Thus, 
by  taking  as  our  hypotheses  general 
propositions  concerning  causes  for 
culture  change,  we  shall  be  able  to 
make  contributions  to  anthropology,  to 
formulate  probabilistic  laws  of  cultural 
dynamics,  the  results  of  which  may  be 
relevant  to  contemporary  world 

In  describing  this  adaptation  to  my 
physical,  social,  and  intellectual 
environment,  I  shall  try  to  explain 
how  this  revolution  came  about.  I  do 
this,  not  because  my  metamorphosis 
is  important  to  anyone  but  myself,  but 
because  the  changes  that  I  describe 
are  the  product  of  the  dissatisfactions 
shared  by  many  archaeologists.  This 
essay  may  be  of  help  to  younger, 
creative  men  who  recognize  that 
something  is  lacking  in  their  research 
strategies  but  who  do  not  quite  know 
how  to  remedy  it. 

Some  years  ago,  Robert  Maynard 
Hutchins  is  alleged  to  have  described 
archaeology  as  a  "tool  course"  that 
belonged  in  the  curricula  of  vocational 
schools  and  not  in  those  of  a  university. 

This  scornful  evaluation  really  racked 
me,  but  it  had  enough  truth  in  it  to 
make  it  impossible  to  disregard. 
Actually,  he  was  not  far  off  target, 

especially  when  one  recalls  the  then- 
current  definitions  of  archaeology: 
— Archaeology,  the  science  of  what  Is 
old  In  the  career  of  humanity, 
especially  as  revealed  by  excavations 
ot  the  sites  of  prehistoric  occupation. 
Archaeology,  of  course,  Is  a  sort  ot 
unwritten  history. 
— Archaeology  deals  with  the 
beginnings  of  culture  and  with  those 
phases  of  culture  which  are  now 

— Archaeology  reconstructs  human 
history  from  earliest  times  to  the 
present.  It  Is  concerned  with  the 
beginnings  of  culture  and  also  with 
cultures  and  civilizations  that  are  now 

In  general,  then,  there  was  agreement 
among  most  American  archaeologists 
that  archaeology  was  concerned  with 
reconstruction  of  culture  history  and 
lifeways  as  well  as  with  the  delineation 
of  cultural  processes.  We  had  a  model 
tor  working  out  culture  history,  but 
lacked  a  model  for  explaining  culture 
change.  We  were  slowly  realizing  the 
importance  of  understanding  cultural 
processes  over  vast  periods  of  time. 

These  goals  of  archaeology  had  at  one 
time  been  satisfactory  as  paradigms; 
but,  gradually,  the  mortar  fell  out  of 
the  joints  of  our  "edifice"!   Crucial 
questions  arose  which  could  not  be 
answered  with  the  existing  models. 
For  instance,  why  did  the  mobile 
hunting-gathering  culture  of  the 
Southwest  change  to  a  sedentary  one; 
or  why  did  cultures  of  fVlesoamerica 
become  urban?  These  are  specific 
instances  of  a  more  general  question: 
Under  what  conditions  do  changes  in 

adaptive  strategies  occur?  It  appears 
that  strategy  shifts  occur  when  there 
are  major  changes  in  population, 
integration,  technology,  or  differentiation 
— particularly,  the  latter  two.  I  began  to 
feel  that  our  research  was  futile;  we 
were,  in  fact,  not  increasing  our 
knowledge  of  the  past  nor  applying  it 
to  contemporary  problems  of  our 

At  this  time,  a  crisis  took  place  in  my 
professional  career.  I  had  been  vaguely 
aware  of  new  trends,  of  fresh  breezes 
that  were  disturbing  my  mouldering 
ideas.  I  finally  awakened  to  the  fact 
that  I  had  to  resolve  this  crisis  either 
by  catching  up  with  what  was  going 
on,  or  by  resigning  myself  to  becoming 
a  fossil.  I  must  admit  that  at  first  the 
different  ideas  and  approaches 
outraged  me.  I  was  hostile  to  them, 
probably  because  a  35-year 
professional  investment  was  at  stake. 
I  was  afraid  of  things  strange  and  new. 
It  is  not  uncommon  for  scientists  to 
resist  scientific  discoveries. 

Long  before  my  dissatisfaction  and 
unfulfillment  became  articulate,  a  few 
archaeologists  and  anthropologists 
from  1930  on  had  concluded  that  our 
traditional  methods  were  leading  them 
astray,  down  dead  ends,  and  up 
against  blank  walls.  It  was 
borne  in  on  these  disaffected  students 
that  archaeology  is  part  of  anthropology 
and  is,  therefore,  a  social  science.  As 
practiced,  however,  it  was  at  best  a 
stunted  history  and  presentation  of 
facts  for  their  own  sake;  and,  at  worst, 
a  kind  of  stamp-collecting  pursuit.  The 
interpretation  of  interrelationships  of 
events,  time,  and  space  could  go  on 
ad  Infinitum  and  never  get  anywhere. 
As  one  archaeologist  put  it,  our 
accomplishments  were  "sterile 

Bulletin     March  1971 


methodological  virtuosity."  We  were  in 
a  cul  de  sac  because  comparing  forms 
and  systematizing  our  data  were  not 
leading  to  an  elucidation  of  the 
structure  of  social  systems  any  more 
than  did  the  ordering  and  taxonomy  of 
life  forms  by  Linnaeus  explain  the 
process  of  organic  evolution. 

We  archaeologists  were  confronted 
with  the  bewildering  and  perplexing 
fact  of  a  disparity  between  what  we 
wanted  to  accomplish — an  explanation 
of  why  cultures  change — and  what  we 
were  actually  doing — histories  of  sites. 
For  example,  we  recognized,  though 
dimly,  the  desirability  of  explaining 
past  cultural  processes,  but  a  research 
strategy  for  conducting  such  studies 
had  not  been  developed  in 
archaeological  theory.  In  fact,  we  had 

no  theory  and  we  lacked  goals.  We 
were  in  a  vexing  and  painful 
predicament.  We  were  digging  up  sites, 
towns,  and  cities;  classifying  pottery 
and  tools  with  a  fatuous  obsession; 
dating  places  and  things;  writing 
reports  and  arriving  nowhere.  Rarely 
were  explanations  and  predictions 
attempted;  seldom,  generalizations  or 
probabilistic  laws. 

True,  archaeology  had  contributed 
significantly  to  general  knowledge:  it 
had  established  the  probable  antiquity 
and  origin  of  man;  it  had  contributed 
substantially  to  the  delineation  of 
Biblical  and  Grecian  history;  it  had 
made  a  significant  start  toward  defining 

the  origin  and  antiquity  of  the  American 
Indians;  it  had  demonstrated  the 
separate  development  of  cultures  in  the 
Old  and  New  World;  it  had  outlined  the 
evolution  of  cultures,  the  origins  of 
agriculture,  and  the  development  of 
systems  of  writing;  it  had  aided  in  the 
destruction  of  many  myths  and  much 
folklore  concerning  giants,  races,  and 
human  origins. 

I  do  not  disparage  or  belittle  these 
achievements.  They  were  not,  however, 
explaining,  predicting,  or  clarifying 
cultural  phenomena;  they  were  not 
concerned  with  contemporary  problems 
of  behavioral  science;  and,  finally,  they 
were  not  helping  man  to  understand 
and  to  interpret  his  world. 

Clearly,  this  impasse  would  be  resolved 
as  it  always  has  been  in  science — by 
the  emergence  of  a  new  paradigm. 
This  one  would  not  be  an  extension  of 
the  older  models  that  had  guided  us, 
but  would  be,  rather,  a  reconstruction 
of  the  field  from  new  fundamentals.  As 
I  look  back  with  the  benefit  of 
hindsight,  I  think  we  began  to  realize 
that  goals  (explanations),  investigative 
techniques,  and  collecting  of  data  are 
not  independent  variables.  On  the 
contrary,  they  stand  in  a  dependent 
relationship,  one  to  the  other.  After 
that,  a  temporary  agreement  about 
what  constitutes  good  research  strategy 
and  what  results  were  acceptable 
came  slowly  into  being. 

Then,  in  1961,  by  good  fortune  I  was 
launched  into  a  new  stream  of  events 

that  was  to  bring  me  hope  of  renewed 
progress  and  meaning  in  archaeology. 

Lewis  R.  Binford,  a  student  of  Leslie 
A.  White,  and  his  students  were 
discovering  what  others  had  stumbled 
on,  namely  that  the  traditional  ways  of 
archaeology  were  unpromising  and 
ineffective.  Fortunately,  they  were  not 
deeply  committed  to  the  establishment; 
they  perceived  that  the  old  rules  no 
longer  "defined  a  playable  game." 
It  is  interesting  to  note  that,  as  was  true 
of  other  great  innovators,  they  were 

At  this  time,  four  of  Binford's  students 
— James  A.  Brown,  Leslie  G.  Freeman, 
James  N.  Hill,  and  William  A.  Longacre 
— were  collaborating  with  me  in 
archaeological  analyses.  They  showed 
me  how  we  could  build  on  what  had 
been  done  and  how  advances  could 
be  made.  They  were  kind,  patient, 
stimulating  mentors.  1  perked  up.  1 
listened.  I  attended  seminars.  I  reread. 
1  found  most  of  the  theories  and 
practices  of  the  past  obsolete.  I  slowly 
became  acquainted  with  new  concepts 
and  with  the  need  for  employing  new 
and  methodologically  sophisticated 
techniques  of  data  acquisition  and 
analysis.  I  began  to  perceive  what  is 
meant  by  the  nature  of  scientific 
explanations  and  devices  for 
systematizing  knowledge.  Hence,  a 
small  group  of  archaeologists  in 
various  parts  oi'  the  country  accepted 
cultural-materialism  as  a  valid  strategy. 
They  rejected  historical-particularism; 
they  stressed  the  need  for  devising  a 
research  design  that  would  conform  to 
uniform  or  accepted  rationales  on 
which  to  base  acceptance  or  rejection 
of  hypotheses.  This  group,  and  I  now 
consider  myself  part  of  it,  has 
re-oriented  its  theoretical  and 

Bulletin     March  1971 

methodological  systems.  These  men 
are  creating  a  new  paradigm. 

This  change  may  not  seem  to  some  so 
profound  as  the  shift  from  geocentrism 
to  heliocentrism  or  those  changes 

brought  about  by  Kepler,  Newton,  or 
Boyle,  to  name  but  a  few.  The  point  I 
wish  to  stress  is  that  a  new  paradigm 
permits  one  to  see  things  differently 
today  than  one  did  yesterday,  even  if 
and  when  looking  at  the  same 

Let  us  consider  two  men  looking  at  the 
console  of  a  large  pipe-organ.  One 
man  is  an  organist;  the  other, 
unlearned  musically.  The  organist 
instantly  "sees"  many  things:  the 
various  manuals  (keyboards)  as 
representing  separate  organs — the 
solo,  the  swell,  the  great,  the  choir, 
and  the  pedal  keyboard,  on  which  the 
feet  play;  the  stops,  each  controlling  a 
single  rank  or  multiple  ranks  of  pipes; 
the  couplers,  the  thumb  pistons,  toe 
studs,  expression  pedals,  and  more. 
The  non-organist  is  looking  at  the 
same  details,  but  is  not  seeing  that  a 
certain  stop  will  produce  a  loud  tone 
or  one  of  a  deep  pitch  or  that  one's 
feet  can  "play"  the  pedals  as  nimbly 
as  one's  fingers.  All  he  sees  is  a 
complex  looking  "thing"  with  black 

and  white  keys,  strange  looking  knobs 
en  masse,  a  bench,  and  a  rack.  They 
are  not  both  visually  aware  of  the 
same  object.  The  non-organist  must 
learn  music  and  study  the  organ 
before  he  can  see  (hear,  feel,  sense) 
what  the  organist  sees.  Thus,  the  two 
men  may  be  said  to  have  vastly 
different  conceptual  organizations  and, 
since  their  visual  fields  have  a  different 
organization,  they  observe  different 

So  it  is  that  the  archaeologist  armed 
with  a  different  conceptual  organization 
and  a  new  paradigm  can  now  see  in 
familiar  objects  what  no  one  else  has 
seen  before.  He  has  a  new  way  of 
thinking  about  his  universe;  he  knows 
now  how  to  "see"  ancient  sites, 
stratigraphy,  stone  tools,  in  a  new  and 
meaningful  perspective.  For  example,  I 
used  to  be  a  virtuoso  of  pottery  types. 
Given  almost  any  sherd  from  the 
southwestern  United  States,  I  could 
place  it  spatially  and  temporally.  But  I 
was  unable  to  tell  you  a  thing  about 
the  interrelationship  of  shapes,  designs, 
types,  and  functions.  I  had  not  "seen" 
that  a  given  pottery  type  x  might  have 
been  used  almost  exclusively  for  ritual 
or  burial  purposes.  Nor  did  it  ever 
occur  to  me  to  postulate  that  pottery 
was  more  than  a  type  or  that  it 
represented  part  of  an  articulated 
system  that  had  been  adapted  by  man 
to  his  environment  in  order  to  carry  on 
the  business  of  living.  I  was  unable  to 
see  that  the  patterning  of  human 
behavior  might  be  explained  by  the 
variability  in  the  archaeological  record. 

The  force  of  what  I  am  trying  to  make 
clear  about  the  ability  to  "see"  may  be 
made  clearer  by  examples.  It  is  said 
that  prior  to  the  time  of  Copernicus, 
western  astronomers,  obsessed  by  the 
Ptolemaic  model,  regarded  the  heavens 

as  immutable;  whereas  the  Chinese 
astronomers  during  the  same  centuries 
(prior  to  A.D.  1500)  had  recorded  the 
appearances  of  new  stars  (novae), 
comets,  and  sun-spots.  In  other  words, 
the  Ptolemaic  model  held  by  western 
astronomers  prevented  them  from 
actually  observing  what  was  there  to 
see.  Their  model  blinded  them.  By  the 
same  token,  our  models  and  our 
hypotheses  must  be  created  in  such  a 
way  as  to  include  multi-variate 
explanations  in  order  that  we  may  not 
be  blind  to  reality.  The  paradigm  within 
which  we  work  determines  what  one  is 
going  to  "see" — to  observe. 

Thus,  as  a  result  of  a  new  paradigm, 
I  live  and  work  in  a  different  world. 
The  new  paradigm  that  has  emerged 
was  a  direct  response  to  the  crisis  that 
had  arisen  because  the  traditional 
archaeological  paradigm  was  askew. 
This  kind  of  crisis  leads  to  a  scientific 

What,  then,  are  some  aspects  of  this 
revolution-inciting  paradigm  and  how 
is  archaeology  redefined? 

To  claim  that  some  archaeologists 
have  adopted  a  new  paradigm  is 

equivalent  to  asserting  that  when  they 
look  at  their  world  they  see  something 
new  and  different.  If  the  claim  is  true, 

Bulletin     March  1971 


then  I  should  be  able  to  specify  some 
of  the  principal  changes  in  their 
conceptual  organizations  and  the 
different  things  they  observe.  I  think  it 
is  possible  to  point  out  some  of  the 
major  differences. 

According  to  the  old  view,  archaeology 
was  defined  as  a  special  kind  of 
history.  Data  were  regarded  primarily 
as  the  function  and  result  of  unique 
events,  and  the  task  of  the 
archaeologist  was  to  collect  random 
facts  and  create  a  reconstruction  of 
past  events  and  of  by-gone  life-ways. 
A  whole  was  to  be  formed  from 
random  data. 

According  to  the  new  view, 

archaeology  is  a  science,  for  "science" 
includes  not  only  physical  and 
biological  fields  but  also  the  social 
sciences — anthropology,  sociology, 
economics.  Even  historical  inquiry 
does  not  differ  radically  from  the 
generalizing  natural  or  social  sciences, 
in  respect  to  either  the  logical  patterns 
of  its  explanations  or  the  logical 
structures  of  its  concepts. 
Archaeologists  must  now  regard  data 
as  unique  expressions  of  recurring 

cultural  processes.  Understanding  data 
is  worthwhile  primarily  as  a  means  of 
understanding  these  recurring 

In  the  old  view,  reports  or  monographs 
concerned  with  archaeological  survey 
and/or  complete  descriptions  of  all 
recovered  data  from  a  site  were 
considered  all-important.  Usually,  such 

reports  included  a  history  of  the  region 
or  a  reconstruction  of  the  history  of  a 
site.  In  a  sense,  it  was  at  best  highly 
sophisticated  antiquarianism. 

In  the  new  view,  the  function  of 
science — and  hence  of  archaeology — 
is  to  establish  general  laws  covering 
the  behavior  of  the  observed  events  or 
objects  with  which  the  science  in 
question  is  concerned.  This  enables  us 
to  connect  our  knowledge  of  separated 
events  and  to  make  reliable  predictions 
about  other  events.  Statements  with  a 
high  degree  of  probability  covering  a 
broad  range  of  phenomena  are  among 
the  important  aims  of  science. 

Our  ultimate  goal  in  anthropology  and 
archaeology  is  to  formulate  laws  of 
cultural  dynamics;  to  seek  trends  and 
causes  of  human  behavior;  and,  as 
noted  above,  to  make  probabilistic 

To  apply  this  to  an  archaeological 
situation  is  neither  difficult  nor 
impossible.  Human  behavior  is  patterned 
(demonstrable  and  demonstrated);  and 
if  the  patterning  has  not  been  disturbed 
by  erosion,  plough,  or  pot-hunters,  it 
can  be  recovered  by  proper  techniques 
of  limited  excavation,  that  is,  by  an 
adequately  designed  sampling 
procedure.  Data  relevant  to  all  parts  of 
the  extinct  socio-cultural  system  are 
preserved.  We  have  only  to  devise  a 
proper  definition  of  culture  and 
appropriate  techniques  for  extracting 
this  information  from  the  extant  data. 
Thus,  a  systems  approach  to  culture 
permits  us  to  view  a  site  at  a  single 
point  in  time.  When  one  system  is 
compared  to  another,  we  perceive 
process  at  work — that  is,  change  with 
or  without  continuity.  By  process,  I 
mean  the  analysis  of  a  system  at  one 

point  in  time  and  at  one  place,  and 
how  it  is  transformed  into  a  different 
system  in  the  same  area  at  a  later 
time.  The  comparison  of  systems — not 
individual  "traits" — provides  data  for 
understanding  trends  and  for 
comprehending  regularities.  Once  these 
are  comprehended,  one  can  make 
probabilistic  predictions. 

Under  the  old  view,  culture  was 
defined  implicitly  or  explicitly  as  a  set 
or  an  association  of  traits,  qualities, 
properties,  or  features.  Arrowheads, 
pots,  houses,  firepits,  orientation  of  the 
dead,  bone  tools,  manos,  axes, 
ornaments — all  of  these  and  hundreds 
more  are  traits.  Thus,  archaeologists 
spoke  of  the  Effigy  Mound  "culture," 
the  Desert  "culture,"  the  Beaker 
"culture,"  the  Megalithic  "culture." 
Each  of  these  was  characterized  as 
possessing  certain  traits  that  set  it  off 
from  all  other  neighboring  or  distant 
"cultures."  Archaeologists  even  spoke 
of  certain  tribes  as  being  the 
"brown-ware  (pottery)  people."  Minute 
differences  in  projectile  point  shapes 
were  thought  of  as  being  important  in 
distinguishing  one  people  from  another; 
and  whole  migrations  of  people  were 
postulated  on  the  basis  of  a  single  trait 
or  a  unique  association  of  traits. 

Under  the  new  view,  culture  is  thought 
of  as  man's  extrasomatic  adaptation  to 
his  total  sociological  and  ecological 
environment.  Prehistoric  communities 
(sites)  are  studied  as  whole  systems 
each  subsystem — technological, 
sociological,  ideological — of  which  is 
a  closely  knit,  interrelated  set  of 
functional  parts.  Patterns  of  significantly 
co-varying  clusters  of  stylistic 
categories  and  attributes  of  data 
derived  from  all  subsystems  are  sought. 

From  the  old  view,  insofar  as 
archaeology  held  any  logical  structures, 
it  was  thought  to  be  inductive.  To 
some,  it  demonstrated  a  kind  of 
mysticism  in  that  artifacts  recovered 

Bulletin     March  1971 

from  a  dig  were  assumed  to  speak  to 
the  archaeologist  who  thereby 
identified  himself  with  the  objects 
(supplemented  the  real  with  the  ideal). 
However,  facts  cannot  be  expected  to 
unscramble  themselves  and  produce  a 
theory  in  the  same  way  as  scrambled 
letters  in  an  animated  cartoon 
unscramble  and  form  a  word.  Random 
facts  were  avidly  collected  in  the  belief 
that  this  was  good  procedure  and  that 
the  end  (reconstructing  prehistoric 
life-ways)  justified  the  means 
(haphazard  collecting  of  data,  with  no 
goals  or  hypotheses  in  mind). 

From  the  new  view,  the  time  to  retool 
is  here.  It  is  the  consensus  that  the 
fruitful  approach  to  a  science  of  the 
past  (as  in  all  sciences)  lies  in  those 
systems  of  logic  in  which  deduction 
and  induction  interplay. 

Archaeology  can  be  structured,  it  need 
not  be  haphazard  or  vague.  Tentative 
hypotheses  may  be  deductively 
formulated  to  give  direction  to  scientific 
investigation.  Such  hypotheses 
determine  what  data  should  be 
collected  at  a  given  point  in  an 
investigation  by  means  of  test 
implications.  It  can  be  shown  that  the 
old  method  of  fact  collecting  is  a 
sterile  procedure  and  produces  a 
morass.  Worse,  such  a  procedure  will 
fail  to  reveal  regularities  and  will  lead 
to  no  conclusion.  (Recently,  I  heard  a 

colleague  describe  the  data  from  an 
impressive  series  of  excavations  and 
then  tell  his  audience  that  he  did  not 
know  what  to  do  with  these  data!) 

Actually,  most  archaeologists  have 
prior  or  implicit  ideas  and  postulates 
and  even  derived  theories,  but  they 
often  fail  to  make  these  explicit.  They 
shrink  from  the  ridicule  that  might 
beset  them  if  they  were  to  make 
known  these  hypotheses.  It  would  take 
but  little  intellectual  shift  to  train 
themselves  in  the  hypothetico-deductive 
approach.  They  would  then  realize  that 
hypotheses  are  formulated  or  invented 
to  account  for  observed  facts  and  not 
the  other  way  around. 

Our  knowledge  of  the  past  can  only  be 
increased  by  these  procedures  of 
interplay  and  feedback  of  deduction- 
induction,  formulating  hypotheses 
concerning  human  behavior  and  then 
testing  them  by  relevant  archaeological 
data.  The  only  limits  to  increasing  our 
knowledge  of  the  past  lie  in  poor 
intellectual  training  and  in  failing  to 
understand  that  all  archaeological 
remains  have  relevance  to  propositions 
bearing  upon  cultural  processes  and 
events  of  past  times.  The  accuracy  of 
our  knowledge  of  the  past  may  be 
measured  by  the  degree  to  which  our 
hypotheses  about  the  past  are 
confirmed  or  rejected. 

In  the  light  of  the  above  suggestions, 
we  redefine  archaeology  as  a 
discipline  that  deals  with  the  socio- 
cultural  systems  and  cultural  processes 
of  the  past.  Archaeology  is  a  social 
science  because  its  goal  is  to  explain 

human  behavior.  Archaeology  is 
anthropology  because  it  uses  the 
concept  of  culture.  Because  these 
goals  are  accomplished  by  using  data 
from  the  past,  the  science  is 
archaeology.  Using  data  from  the  past, 
however,  does  not  make  it  a  type  of 
history.  It  is  not  history  because 
archaeology  deals  with  general 
relationships  between  variables  of 
human  behavior,  and  not  with 
explaining  sequences  of  unique  events. 

The  new  paradigm  does  not  resolve 
any  problems.  Its  value  rests  in  the 
fact  that  it  revolutionizes  our  methods 
of  thinking  and  permits  us  to  view  our 
inquiries  in  a  different  way  and  with 
greater  scope.  It  is  a  new  way  of 
regarding  the  problems  of  archaeology. 
It  is  high  time  that  archaeologists  make 
use  of  the  new  research  tools  given 
them  by  the  logic  and  structure  of 

Although  I  have  written  this  essay  in  the  first  person, 
I  emphasize  that  my  efforts  have  been  the  results  of 
suggestions,  collaboration  and  cooperation  v»ith 
young,  ardent,  capable,  and  dedicated  scientists — 
Lewis  R.  Binford.  James  A.  Brown,  Leslie  G. 
Freeman,  John  M.  Fritz.  James  N.  HiU,  Mark  P. 
Leone,  William  A.  Longacre.  Fred  T.  Plog.  Edwin  N. 
Wilmsen — to  name  but  a  few. 

Adapted  and  reprinted,  by  permission  of  the  Society 
for  American  Archaeology,  from  American  Antiquity, 
Volume  36,  Number  1.  January  1971. 

Dr.  Paul  S.  Martin  is  chairman  emeritus  ol 
antliropoiogy  at  Field  Museum. 

Bulletin     March  1971 

International  nature  photograp 

More  photographers  than  ever  before  this  year  sent 
more  photographs  than  ever  before  to  be  considered 
for  the  26th  Chicago  International  Exhibition  of 
Nature  Photography.   Over  4,000  color  slides  and 
400  prints  were  submitted  by  some  1,000 
photographers  from  48  states  and  many  other 
countries.    Field  Museum  and  the  Nature  Camera 
Club  of  Chicago  are  joint  sponsors  of  this  biggest 
exhibition  of  nature  photography  in  the  v\/orld, 
held  in  the  Museum.    We  wish  there  were  space 
to  reproduce  more  than  the  four  entries  shown  here. 

No  monetary  awards  are  involved.    It  is  a 
noncommercial,  nonprofessional  event.   Most 
entrants  are  amateur  but  avid  nature  photographers. 
But  the  honor  of  having  one's  work  accepted  is 
an  acknowledged  standard  of  accomplishment  that 
even  some  professionals  seek. 

A  lot  of  work  is  involved  in  opening  boxes, 
carefully  preparing  all  the  slides  and  prints  for 
judging,  showing,  and  finally  returning  to  their 
owners.    Most  of  it  is  done  by  members  of  the 
Nature  Camera  Club,  with  assistance  by  the 
Museum  staff  in  setting  up  the  exhibit. 

The  challenge  of  putting  nature's  beauty  and 
diversity  on  film  makes  this  hobby  so  exciting. 
The  reward  comes  when  people  respond  to  an 
unusual  glimpse  of  nature  caught  by  your  camera 
— something  they  may  otherwise  never  have  seen 
or  noticed. 

William  Burger 

President,  Nature  Camera  Club  of  Chicago 

Bulletin     March  1971 

iy  exhibition 





^'^ . 


Photos:  Sand  Curves  (page  9),  by  Alexander 
Oupper,  Lodi,  California.  Redwood  in  Fog  (page 
10),  by  Dr.  Fred  Modern.  Long  Beach,  California. 
Caracal  Lynx  (page  11),  by  Earl  Kubis,  Downers 
Grove,  Illinois.  Machaeon  Swallowtail  (page  11), 
by  Tom  Webb,  Edmonton,  Alberta,  Canada. 

Bulletin     March  1971 



Patricia  M.  Williams 

Last  year  was  Fieldiana's  75th  birthday. 
In  those  75  years  Field  Museum  has 
published  over  1 ,100  issues  of  Fieldiana. 
The  list  of  Fieldiana  titles  stands  a 
towering  22  feet  high  in  the  Museum's 
75th  Anniversary  Exhibit  and  Fieldiana's 
distribution  is  worldwide  in  scope.  And 
yet,  unless  you're  a  professional 
scientist,  you  may  have  never  even 
heard  of  Fieldiana,  let  alone  read 
a  copy. 

Fieldiana  is  a  continuing  series  of 
scientific  papers  and  monographs 
dealing  with  anthropology,  botany, 
geology  and  zoology  intended  primarily 
for  exchange-distribution  to  museums, 
libraries,  and  universities,  but  also 
available  for  purchase. 

Fieldiana  was  begun  in  what  is  often 
referred  to  as  the  "Museum  Age" — the 
1800's.  Many  of  this  country's  great 
natural  history  museums  were  founded 
in  the  nineteenth  century  and  their 
scientific  series  began  to  proliferate 
toward  the  end  of  that  century.  For 
example,  the  Bulletin  of  the  American 
Museum  of  Natural  History  first 
appeared  in  1881,  the  Proceedings  of 
the  U.S.  National  Museum  in  1878,  the 
Smithsonian  Miscellaneous  Collections 
in  1860,  and  the  Contributions  from 
the  Gray  Herbarium  in  1891. 

Field  Museum's  Annual  Report  of  the 
Director  for  1895  introduced  the  series 
which  would  one  day  be  called 
Fieldiana  as  "the  medium  of  presenting 
to  the  world  the  results  of  the  research 
and  investigation  conducted  under 
the  auspices  of  the  Museum.  The 
publications  are  intended  primarily  to 
convey  information  upon  the  collections 
and  expeditions  of  the  Museum.  There 
is  no  restriction,  however,  as  to 
authorship  or  subject,  provided  the 
papers  come  within  the  scope  of 
scientific  or  technical  discussion." 

At  that  time  the  Museum  itself  was  still 
evolving  toward  its  present  division 
of  interests  and  the  scientific  series 
reflects  this  evolution.  Then,  as  now, 
there  was  a  Botanical,  Zoological  and 
Anthropological  Series  but  instead  of  a 
Geology  series  the  Museum  offered 
both  Historical  and  Geographical 
publications.  In  fact,  publications  1, 
"An  Historical  and  Descriptive  Account 
of  the  Field  Columbian  Museum"  and  2, 
"The  Authentic  Letters  of  Columbus" 
were  both  in  the  now  defunct 
Historical  Series. 

Fieldiana  has  reflected  not  only  the 
growth  and  development  of  Field 
Museum,  but  of  the  various  sciences 
as  well.  For  example,  anthropology 
was  just  emerging  as  a  professional 
discipline  in  the  United  States  at  the 
time  of  Fieldiana's  introduction  and 
some  of  the  most  important  early 
anthropologists  contributed  to  the  series. 
W.  H.  Holmes  published  one  of  the 
world's  first  reports  on  the  archaeology 
of  the  Yucatan  in  the  new-born 
Anthropological  Series.  G.  A.  Dorsey 
contributed  several  landmark 
publications  on  various  American 
Indian  tribes,  recording  firsthand  details 
of  ceremonies  and  myths  which  were 
impossible  to  obtain  even  a  few  years 
later.  H.  R.  Voth,  a  missionary, 
recorded  descriptions  of  sacred 
American  Indian  ceremonies  and  his 
publications  are  standard  references 

Dorsey  and  Voth  published  in  Field 
Museum's  series  between  1897  and 
1912.  Around  1912  Berthold  Laufer,  a 


Bulletin     March  1971 

scholarly  giant  of  world  renown, 
began  to  publish.  His  "Jade,  a  Study 
in  Chinese  Archaeology  and  Religion" 
(1912)  was  one  of  the  first 
authoritative  works  on  jade  and  is  now 
a  classic.  In  1927  J.  Eric  Thompson 
published  a  very  short,  very  technical 
paper  called  "A  Correlation  of  Mayan 
and  European  Calendars."  This 
calendar,  which  correlates  Christian 
chronology  with  Mayan  hieroglyphics, 
continues  to  be  the  standard  reference 
point  for  workers  in  this  field. 
In  1931  Roy  L.  Moodie  contributed 
"Roentgenologic  Studies  of  Egyptian 
and  Peruvian  Mummies," — one  of 
the  first  published  collections  of  mummy 
X-rays.  Paul  S.  Martin,  who  has 
published  more  on  the  Southwest 
than  any  other  anthropologist,  authored 
several  volumes  in  the  Fieldiana: 
Anthropology  series.  Ralph  Linton, 
A.  L.  Kroeber,  W.  Hambley,  Fay  Cooper 
Cole,  and  Alexander  Spoehr  are 
among  the  prominent  anthropologists 
who  have  contributed  to  Fieldiana 
in  the  past. 

Reviewed  in  the  same  detail,  the  lists 
of  Fieldiana:  Botany,  Geology,  and 
Zoology  are  seen  to  be  studded  with  the 

names  of  outstanding  scientists 
advancing  new  ideas,  describing  new 
genera  and  species.  The  colossal 
floras  in  the  Botanical  Series  are  known 
to  botanists  the  world  over  and 
represent  the  work  of  many  men.  The 
"Flora  of  Peru,"  begun  in  1936  and  still 
in  progress,  runs  to  over  6,000  pages 
to  date.  The  "Flora  of  Guatemala," 
begun  in  1957,  continues.  Just 
beginning  is  a  series  on  the  flora  of 
Costa  Rica  to  record  the  remarkable 
botanical  diversity  of  that  area  before 
much  is  eradicated  by  encroachment 
of  the  human  species  and  its  technology. 

Many  of  the  geology  publications  have 
been  landmarks  in  the  study  of  the 
earth  and  early  life,  presenting  new 
concepts,  data,  techniques,  and 
interpretations.  One  outstanding 
example,  "The  Paleoecological  History 
of  Two  Pennsylvanlan  Black  Shales" 
by  Rainer  Zangerl  and  Eugene  S. 
Richardson,  is  now  used  as  advanced 
reading  in  universities. 

Fieldiana:  Zoology  is  an  abundant 
source  of  descriptive  and  interpretative 
material  dealing  with  insects, 
invertebrates,  and  vertebrates  from 
every  area  of  the  world.  W.  H.  Osgood 
and  K.  P.  Schmidt,  both  former  chief 
curators,  were  prolific  writers  and 
published  often  in  the  Fieldiana  series. 
D.  Wright  Davis'  mammoth  "The  Giant 
Panda:  A  Morphological  Study  of 
Evolutionary  Mechanisms"  is  certainly 
one  of  the  most  noteworthy  issues  of 
Fieldiana  from  a  standpoint  of  both 
quality  and  size  (339  quarto  pages,  160 

It  is  largely  through  such  publications 
that  Field  Museum's  reputation  as  a 
scientific  institution  is  maintained  and 
enhanced,  that  its  collections  and  staff 
become  known  to  the  scientific 

Any  title  of  Fieldiana — dated  1895  or 
1971 — can  be  examined  in  the  Museum 
library.  All  that  are  not  out  of  print 
are  available  for  purchase. 

In  this  age  of  imperative  relevance, 
Fieldiana  is  relevant.  It  describes  and 
interprets  our  world  and  its  inhabitants 
as  it  was  and  is.  For  conservationists 
of  both  human  and  natural  resources, 
Fieldiana  provides  a  record  of  what  was 
so  that  we  can  measure  what  we  have 
changed,  improved  or  destroyed. 
Fieldiana  has  been  pure  science  as 
well — irritating  to  those  who  demand 
"But  what  can  you  use  it  for?"  but 
inspiring  to  those  who  appreciate  and 
desire  knowledge  for  its  own  sake. 

Patricia  M.  Williams  is  managing  editor 
ot  scientific  publications  at  Field  Museum. 

Bulletin     March  1971 


Dr.  VanStone  New  Anthropology 
Department  Chairman 

Dr.  James  W.  VanStone  has  been  named 
chairman  of  the  Department  of  Anthropology 
at  Field  Museum.  He  succeeds  Dr.  Donald 
Collier,  who  re-assumes  his  former  position 
of  curator  of  Middle  and  South  American 
archaeology  and  ethnology.  The  appointment 
is  in  accordance  with  the  Museum's  new 
policy  of  four-year  term  appointments  for  the 
chairmen  of  its  scienfific  departments. 

Dr.  VanStone  is  former  curator  of  North 
American  archaeology  and  ethnology.  He  is 
a  member  of  a  joint  committee  of  the  Arctic 
Institute  of  North  America  and  the  Bureau  of 
Land  Management,  Department  of  the 
Interior,  advising  on  environmental  protection 
in  conjunction  with  the  Trans-Alaska 
pipeline.  The  committee,  composed  of  seven 
northern  specialists,  reviews  the  work  of  the 
archaeologists  hired  by  the  Trans-Alaska 
Pipeline  system. 

An  authority  on  the  peoples  of  the  North 
American  arctic  and  subarctic,  having  taught 
anthropology  for  eight  years  at  the  University 

Dr.  James  VanStone 

of  Alaska  and  seven  years  at  the  University 
of  Toronto,  Dr.  VanStone  joined  Field 
Museum's  staff  four  years  ago. 

Francis  Brenton  Sails  Catamaran  Back  from  South  America 

Francis  Brenton,  voyager,  writer, 
photographer  and  adventurer,  returned 
recently  with  more  than  one  hundred  artifacts 
he  collected  for  Field  Museum  while 
exploring  the  jungles  of  South  America. 

His  journey  began  a  year  ago  at  the  top  of 
the  Amazon,  where  he  purchased  a  20-foot 
dugout  to  traverse  its  tributaries.  "Collecting 
in  this  region,"  says  Brenton,  "was  from 
the  Rio  Ucayali  and  other  rivers  branching 
off  the  main  Amazon  River,  such  as  the 
Mazon,  Napo,  Loreto,  Yavari  and  half  a 
dozen  others.  Tribes  were  mostly  Shipibo, 
Jivaro,  Yagua  and  Tucuna.  The  artifacts 
acquired  included  blowguns,  bows  and 
arrows,  hammocks,  pottery,  a  headdress, 
flutes,  clothing,  medicinal  plants,  baskets, 
bags,  ankle  and  wrist  ornaments  made  of 
jungle  seeds,  and  other  similar  trinkets." 

Obtaining  another  20-footer  at  Belem, 
Brazil,  Brenton  lashed  the  two  dugouts 
together  to  form  a  catamaran,  which  he 
named  the  Sarape.  From  Belem,  he  sailed 
up  the  coast  to  the  Guianas  and  continued 
to  the  mouth  of  the  Rio  Orinoco  in 
Venezuela.  In  this  area  he  visited  the 
Guahibo,  Makaritari,  Piaroa,  and  Delta 
Indians,  adding  more  items  to  his  collection 
along  the  way. 

Returning  back  down  the  Orinoco,  Brenton 
headed  for  Trinidad.  At  this  point  in  his 
narration  he  stops  to  explain,  "Anyway. 
when  I  reached  the  Atlantic  from  the 
Orinoco,  the  Sarape  started  taking  on  water 
by  the  bucketful,  through  the  seams  which 
the  ants  had  eaten  clear  of  calking.  The 
typewriter  was  thoroughly  soaked  and  I  also 
felt  the  urge  to  jettison  weight,  for  I  was 
six  to  eight  miles  from  land  at  the  time." 
Brenton  was  referring  to  the  typewriter  he 
was  using  to  record  daily  events  for  his 
forthcoming  book.  The  Sarape.  It  went 
overboard  without  much  further  ado. 

The  last  thirty  days  of  Brenton's  voyage, 
from  Trinidad  to  Miami,  were  relatively 
calm  and  uneventful. 

Francis  Brenton  has  soloed  the  Atlantic 
three  times,  twice  in  dugout  canoes.  He  is 
the  author  of  A  Long  Sail  to  Haiti,  and 
The  Voyage  of  the  Sierra  Sagrada. 

Even  though  his  latest  expedition  is  barely 
over,  Brenton  is  busy  making  plans  for  the 
next  one.  He  will  leave  Miami  soon  in  the 
Sarape,  sailing  up  the  Inland  Waterway  to 
Newport  News,  from  where  he  will  head  for 
Plymouth,  England.  He  expects  to  sail  along 
the  coasts  of  France  and  Portugal  as  far  as 
Madeira,  photographing  and  writing  along 
the  way,  and  looking  for  new  adventure. 

Francis  Brenton  and  Dr.  Donald  Collier,  curator  of 
Middle  and  South  American  archaeology  and 
ethnology,  examine  blowgun,  darts,  and  manioc 
squeezer,  some  of  the  objects  Brenton  brought  back 
to  the  Museum  from  his  most  recent  voyage. 

Rock  Hounds  Honor  Dr.  Richardson 

Dr.  Eugene  S.  Richardson,  Jr.,  curator  of 
invertebrate  fossils,  has  been  honored  by 
the  American  Federation  of  Mineralogical 
Societies.  The  Scholarship  Foundation  of 
this  nationwide  federation  of  rock  hound 
groups,  encompassing  60,000  members, 
voted  their  annual  Scholarship  Foundation 
Award  to  him  for  1971,  "for  outstanding 
achievement  in  the  field  of  Earth  Sciences." 

Dr.  Richardson  will  thus  have  the  privilege 
of  selecting  schools  that  will  receive  grants 
from  the  Foundation  to  assist  six  graduate 
students  for  two  years  each  in  their  work 
toward  a  master's  or  doctor's  degree  in  any 
of  the  earth  sciences.  The  substantial 
resources  of  the  Foundation  that  make  these 
grants  possible  have  been  accumulated 
over  the  years  through  many  small 
fund-raising  activities  of  the  local  societies 
and  contributions  of  the  members. 

The  Foundation  president,  W.  H.  de  Neul, 
wrote  that  "Dr.  Richardson's  selection  to 
receive  this  honor  is  particularly  gratifying; 
he  has  done  so  much  to  further  among  the 
'common  men'  the  interest  in  paleontology, 
we  can  think  of  no  one  that  is  more  worthy 
of  the  Award.  He  regularly  and  frequently 
lectures  to  Chicago  area  audiences  and 
works  closely  with  local  club  members  in 
their  search  of  the  strip  coal  mining  area 
southwest  of  Chicago,  which  has  produced 
so  many  spectacular  paleontological  finds." 

In  addition  to  his  active  professional  writing 
and  other  work,  Dr.  Richardson  has  indeed 
contributed  much  to  the  activities  of  these 


Bulletin     March  1971 

eager  nonprofessional  groups.  He  is 
advisory  editor  of  paleontology  for  Earth 
Science  Magazine,  and  an  honorary  member 
of  tfie  Midwest  Federation  of  Mineralogical 
Societies,  the  Lake  County  Gem  &  Mineral 
Society  (Waukegan),  the  Earth  Science 
Club  of  Northern  Illinois,  and  the  Chicago 
Rocks  &  Minerals  Society. 

Geology  Field  Trip 

Details  of  the  April  geology  field  trip  to 
the  Ozarks  will  be  explained  to  all 
prospective  participants  on  Saturday,  March 
20  at  10:30  A.M.  at  65  East  South  Water 

The  group  will  fly  to  St.  Louis  on  Sunday, 
April  4  and  return  to  Chicago  Saturday, 
April  10.  A  chartered  bus  will  transport 
participants  into  the  field.  Four  long  hikes 
will  require  hiking  clothes.  Tuition  of 
$160  will  include  air  transportation,  the 
chartered  bus  in  Missouri,  and  all  meals. 
(Members  of  the  Museum  are  entitled 
to  10%  discount.)  Hotel  reservations  will 
be  made  for  the  group  and  will  be  an 
additional  $5  to  $8  a  day. 

The  trip  is  non-credit  course  N963  offered 
by  the  University  of  Chicago  Extension  in 
cooperation  with  the  Department  of 
Education  of  the  Field  Museum  of  Natural 
History.  Matthew  H.  Nitecki,  associate 
curator  in  the  Museum's  Department  of 
Geology,  will  conduct  the  course. 
Arrangements  to  join  the  group  should  be 
made  by  calling  Mrs.  Marie  Matyas, 
University  of  Chicago  Extension,  at 
Financial  6-8300. 

Hans  Conried  Visits  Field  Museum 

Christopher  C.  Legge.  custodian  of  anthropological 
collections,  shows  Hans  Conried,  the  well  known 
actor,  a  necklace  that  once  belonged  to  Quanah 
Parker,  one  of  the  most  warlike  chiefs  of  the 
Comanche  Indians.  Said  Mr.  Conried  during  his 
recent  visit,  "I  have  been  coming  here  for  many 
years — whenever  I  am  in  town.  Field  Museum  is  one 
of  the  greatest  museums  in  the  world." 

Wood  Collection  Contributed  to 
Agriculture  Department 

Field  Museum  recently  transferred  its 
worldwide  wood  collection  of  more  than 
20,000  specimens  to  the  Forest  Products 
Laboratory  of  the  United  States  Department 
of  Agriculture  Forest  Service  at  Madison, 
Wisconsin.  The  gift  was  made  possible 
through  the  efforts  of  Dr.  Louis  0.  Williams, 
chairman  of  the  Museum's  Department  of 

With  this  acquisition,  the  extensive  Forest 
Products  Laboratory  collection,  which 
includes  the  Samuel  James  Record 
collection  acquired  from  Yale  University 
in  1969,  now  totals  about  100,000 
specimens  of  wood  from  every  major 
forest  area  in  the  world,  making  it  the 
world's  largest  research  collection  of  woods. 

The  original  set  of  voucher  specimens 
(specimens  of  leaves,  stems,  flowers  and 
fruits  mounted  on  herbarium  sheets)  for 
Field  Museum's  wood  collection  remains 
available  in  its  herbarium  for  study 
purposes,  together  with  the  original  voucher 
specimens  for  many  of  the  woods  from 
the  Samuel  James  Record  collection, 
determined  by  Paul  C.  Standley, 
outstanding  authority  on  tropical  American 
botany  who  spent  a  "life  time"  at  Field 

More  recent  vouchers  from  Forest  Products 
Laboratory's  valuable  acquisitions  in  Peru 
have  been  determined  and  the  study 
set  and  types  deposited  in  Field  Museum's 
herbarium.  Duplicate  specimens  of  many 
of  these  recent  Peruvian  collections 
have  been  distributed  to  other  scientific 
institutions,  including  Peruvian,  by  Field 

NSF  Grant  for  Archaeology  Program 

A  grant  of  $22,000  has  been  awarded  Field 
Museum  by  the  National  Science  Foundation 
for  support  of  its  "New  Perspectives  in 
Archaeology"  1971  summer  program  for 
high  ability  college  sophomores  and  juniors. 
This  special  program  has  been  conducted 
at  the  Museum's  field  station  at  Vernon, 
Arizona  since  1964  under  a  National 
Science  Foundation  grant  for  undergraduate 
participation.  The  project  Is  under  the 
direction  of  Dr.  Paul  S.  Martin,  chairman 
emeritus  of  anthropology  at  Field  Museum. 

Students  selected  to  participate  In  the 
ten-week  session  will  be  Involved  in 
excavation,  reconnaissance,  and  research 

into  the  prehistory  of  the  Southwest.  Each 
student  will  conceive  and  execute  an 
independent  research  project.  He  will 
generate  an  hypothesis,  gather  data  to  test 
it,  and  demonstrate  laws  concerning  human 
behavior.  Dr.  Martin  believes  such  laws  may 
throw  light  on  contemporary  world  problems. 

Dr.  Martin  has  worked  in  the  Southwest  for 
over  forty  years.  His  published  reports  on 
archaeological  sites  in  New  Mexico, 
Colorado,  and  eastern  Arizona  have  filled  a 
dozen  volumes  of  Field  Museum's  scientific 
series  Fieldiana:  Anthropology.  In  1968  he 
received  the  Alfred  Vincent  Kidder  Award 
for  outstanding  contributions  to  American 
archaeology.  An  article  by  Dr.  Martin  is 
featured  in  this  issue  of  the  Bulletin. 

McCormick  Trust  Gift 

Stanley  Armstrong,  executive  director  of  the  Robert 
R.  McCormick  Charitable  Trust,  and  E.  Leiand 
Webber,  director  of  Field  Museum,  look  over 
construction  work  in  a  light  well  area  at  Field 
Museum  where  much-needed  additional  office  and 
research  space  is  being  created  for  the  scientific 
departments.  McCormick  Trust  contributed  $150,000 
for  the  remodeling,  in  addition  to  a  previous  gift  of 
$300,000  for  new  facilities  for  the  Exhibition 


This  year.  Members'  Night  will  be  held  on 
May  6  and  7,  to  take  care  of  over-flow 
crowds  and  to  give  members  a  chance  to 
participate  In  all  of  the  special  activities. 
All  events  will  be  the  same  for  both 
evenings.  Be  sure  to  mark  your  calendar. 

Bulletin     March  1971 



To  the  editor: 

I  cannot  help  but  react  to  the  letter  written 
by  R.  B.  Ayres  in  response  to  Dr.  P. 
Ehrlich's  population  article.  Mr.  Ayres  begins 
with  the  false  assumption  that  the  population 
crisis  is  a  problem  only  for  the  rest  of  the 
world.  In  fact,  that  is  the  least  of  the 
problem.  A  child  born  in  the  developed 
countries  (the  U.S.,  W.  Europe  and  Japan) 
will,  in  the  course  of  its  lifetime,  consume 
50  times  as  much  of  the  resources  of  the 
world  as  a  child  born  in  the  underdeveloped 
world.  Clearly,  it  is  this  country  that  is  at  the 
heart  of  the  world's  crisis. 

Mr.  Ayres  also  falsely  assumes  that  it  is  the 
people  of  the  ghettos  that  mal^e  them  such. 
When  trying  to  arrive  at  the  roots  of  poverty 
perhaps  Mr.  Ayres  should  ask  the  landlord 
who  refuses  to  repair  ghetto  homes  while 
making  an  exhorbitant  profit  off  the  peoples 
right  to  decent  housing.  Or  the  real  estate 
agents  who  refuse  to  sell  or  rent  to  blacks 
outside  the  confines  of  the  ghetto,  thus 
creating  a  trapped  colony.  Or  the  white 
store-owners  and  corporations  that  exploit 
this  trapped  colony  and  remove  its  wealth 
to  the  suburb. 

All  of  Mr.  Ayres'  assumptions  add  up  to  a 
blatantly  racist  analysis  of  the  world.  One  in 
which  the  white  man  is  culturally  and 
racially  superior  to  both  the  underdeveloped 
world  and  the  black  colony  at  home.  Finally, 
by  denying  any  political  role  in  social  reality, 
Mr.  Ayres  assures  us  of  his  applause  of 
racism,  slavery  and  exploitation.  1  would 
suggest  that  perhaps  he  has  been  in  the 
Arizona  sun  too  long  and  is  so  far  removed 
from  reality  that  his  bigotry  is  perverse. 

John  L  Lawrencen 

Associate  Professor  of  Antfiropology 


To  the  editor: 

Another  vote  in  favor  of  continued 
information  about  the  population  problems. 
In  fact  two  votes.  My  husband  and  I  agree 
completely  with  Mr.  Alan  Garrett's  letter  in 
the  January,  1971  Bultetin.  We  have  only 
been  readers  of  this  publication  for  a  year 
or  so  and  look  forward  to  every  issue. 

Mrs.  Lawrence  C.  Burns 
Winnetka,  fllinois 

To  the  editor: 

I  have  just  read  the  article  "Canning  a 
legend."  As  a  human  being  and  a  dog 
owner  and  an  animal  lover  I  feel  deeply 
disturbed.  I  hardly  ever  feed  my  dog  canned 
food,  but  all  the  same  how  can  I  find  out 
which  firms  use  "wild  horses?"  Or  do  all  of 
them?  Is  there  anything  one  can  do  apart 
from  donating  money  when  you  see  an 
advert  in  a  paper?  I  wish  one  could  advertise 
the  facts  pictorially  on  television — on  the 
same  channels  that  advertise  dog  food. 
I  think  ali  hunting  or  hounding  by  plane 
should  be  forbidden,  but  what  can  I  do 
about  it? 

Rutti  Duckworth 

Editor's  note: 

The  International  Society  for  the  Protection 
of  Mustangs  and  Burros  is  one  organization 
that  would  welcome  interest  and  support.  It 
can  be  addressed  in  care  of  Mrs.  Helen  A. 
Reilly,  Badger,  California  93603.  Hope 
Ryden  in  her  book  America's  Last  Wild 
l-lorses  identifies  several  others,  and  also 
prints  Senate  Bill  3358,  introduced  by 
Wyoming's  Senator  Clifford  P.  Hansen  last 
year,  "to  authorize  the  Secretary  of  the 
Interior  to  protect,  manage,  and  control 
free-roaming  horses  and  burros  on  public 
lands."  The  bill  was  read  twice  and 
referred  to  the  Committee  on  Interior  and 
Insular  Affairs. 

Please  address  all  letters  to  the  editor  to 


Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 
Roosevelt  Road  and  Lake  Shore  Drive 
Chicago,  Illinois  60605 

The  editors  reserve  the  right  to  edit 
letters  for  length. 

™jr— ' » . ;  ■  ■  ■■'■■ ' — ^ 

refreshing  lands  of 

■fjords  &  MIDNIGHT  SUN 
fjUNE  8 -JULY  2,  1971 

$2,405  (INCLUDES  A  $500 

Fjords,  outdoor  museums,  gardens, 
wildflowers,  birds,  archaeological  sites, 
-  architecture,  design,  Linnaeus'  gardens, 
;  great  cathedrals,  historic  palaces, 
j  opera,  midnight  sun  in  Lappland, 
'  reindeer:  Bergen,  Oslo,  Helsinki,  Tapiola, 
•  Lake  Inari,  Stockholm,  Gotland  Island, 
Uppsala,  Gothenburg,  Kattegat, 
Halsingborg,  Norrviken,  Sofiero, 
Bosjokloster,  Lund,  Helsinfors,  Copenhagen. 




Bulletin     March  1971 



9  a.m.  to  5  p.m.  Saturday-Thursday 

9  a.m.  to  9  p.m.  Friday 

The  Museum  Library  is  open  9  a.m. 
to  4:30  p.m.  Monday  through  Friday. 

Spring  Film-Lecture  Series,  presented  at 
2:30  p.m.,  James  Simpson  Theatre 

March  6 

"The  New  Israel,"  narrated  by  Ray  Green. 
A  vivid  and  up-to-date  portrayal  of  this 
ancient  land  and  its  people,  that  is  a  blend 
of  the  past  and  the  present. 

March  13 

"The  Call  of  the  Running  Tide,"  narrated 
by  Stanton  Waterman.  Photographed  in  the 
islands  of  French  Polynesia,  much  of  it  on 
sea  bottom  and  along  barrier  reefs,  it  is  a 
revealing  study  of  the  inhabitants  and  the 
many  forms  of  sea-life  surrounding  them. 

March  20 

"Uganda — Land  of  Stanley  and 
Livingston,"  narrated  by  William  Stockdale. 
Scenes  of  vifildlife,  the  wonders  of  national 
parks  and  the  people  in  the  cities  and 
remote  areas. 

March  27 

"Sweden  Year  Around,"  narrated  by  Ed 
Lark.  All  four  seasons  are  encompassed  in 
this  motion  picture  journey  to  the  land  of 
the  midnight  sun. 


John  James  Audubon's  elephant  folio.  The 
Birds  ot  America,  on  display  in  the  North 
Lounge.  A  different  plate  from  the  rare, 
first-edition  set  is  featured  each  day. 

7Sth  Anniversary  Exhibit:  A  Sense  of 
Wonder,  A  Sense  of  History,  A  Sense  of 
Discovery,  continues  indefinitely.  New  and 
exciting  display  techniques  explore  Field 
Museum's  past  and  present  and  current 
research  projects.  Hall  3. 


"Exploring  Indian  Country,"  Winter  Journey 
for  Children.  The  free,  self-guided  tour 
enables  youngsters  to  see  American  Indians 
of  three  environments  as  the  early  explorers 
saw  them.  All  boys  and  girls  who  can  read 
and  write  may  participate.  Journey  sheets 
are  available  at  Museum  entrances. 


Color  In  Nature,  an  exhibit  of  broad  scope 
that  uses  examples  from  Field  Museum's 
huge  collections  to  explore  the  nature  and 
variety  of  color  in  the  physical  and  living 
world  around  us.  It  examines  the  meaning 
of  color  In  the  reproduction,  survival  and 
evolution  of  plants  and  animals  by  focusing 
on  its  many  roles — as  in  mimicry, 
camouflage,  warning,  sexual  recognition 
and  selection,  energy  channeling  and 
vitamin  production.  Through  October  10. 

A  male  Greater  Bird  of  Paradise,  held  by  Dr.  Rupert 
L.  Wenzel.  chairman  of  the  Department  of  Zoology, 
displays  his  bright  colors  for  the  favor  of  female  birds. 

"To  See  or  Not  to  See,"  Spring  Journey  for 
Children,  helps  them  learn  about  the 
diversity  of  colors  and  color  patterns  of 
selected  animals,  as  well  as  the  advantages 
of  mimicry  and  pigmentation  changes,  with 
the  aid  of  a  questionnaire.  All  youngsters 
who  can  read  and  write  may  participate  in 
the  free  program.  Journey  sheets  are 
available  at  Museum  entrances.  Through 
May  31 . 


Catalogue  of  the  Different  Specimens  of 
Clotti  Collected  in  the  Three  Voyages  of 
Captain  Cook,  to  the  Southern 
Hemisphere,  London,  Alexander  Shaw, 
1787,  shown  in  the  South  Lounge. 
The  rare  copy  consists  of  actual  tapa  cloth 
specimens  collected  during  Captain  Cook's 
voyages  to  the  South  Seas  (1768-1780).  The 
volume  is  the  gift  of  Mrs.  A.  W.  F.  Fuller. 

Life  in  Other  Worlds?  An  exhibit  of  the 
Murchison  meteorite,  a  Type  II 

carbonaceous  chondrite,  of  which  only  14 
exist  out  of  the  almost  2,000  known 
meteorites.  Recently,  amino  acids,  possible 
building  blocks  of  life,  have  been  reported 
in  this  meteorite.  South  Lounge. 

A  rare,  wild  albino  mink,  in  a  special 
display  in  the  South  Lounge.  This  almost 
adult  female  specimen  is  the  gift  of  Terry  L. 
Perry  of  Johnston,  Iowa,  who  captured  it 
about  16  months  ago.  Through  May  16. 

MARCH  28 

"The  Bahamas,"  a  free  wildlife  film,  offered 
by  the  Illinois  Audubon  Society.  2:30  p.m., 
James  Simpson  Theatre. 


March     9:   7:45  p.m..  Nature  Camera  Club  of 
Chicago  (Everybody  is  welcome) 

March     9:  8  p.m.,  Chicagoland  Glider 

March  10:   7  p.m.,  Chicago  Ornithological 

March  10:   7:30  p.m.,  Windy  City  Grotto — 

National  Speleological  Society 
March  11:   8  p.m.,  Chicago  Mountaineering 

March  14:   2  p.m.,  Chicago  Shell  Club 
March  16:  7:30  p.m.,  Chicago  Area  Camera 

Clubs  Association 
March  21:  2  p.m.,  Illinois  Orchid  Society 


The  Afro-American  Style,  from  the  Design 
Works  of  Bedford-Stuyvesant,  an  exhibit  of 
hand-printed  textiles  blending  classical 
African  motifs  and  contemporary  design. 
April  7  through  September  12.  Hall  9. 

Spring  Children's  Programs  at  10:30  a.m., 
James  Simpson  Theatre. 

April    3:  Honor  day  for  Cub  Scouts  and 

film  program 
April  17:  Film  program 
April  24:  Museum  Traveler  Day  with 

Journey  awards  and  film  program 

Spring  Film-Lecture  Series  presented  at 
2:30  p.m.,  James  Simpson  Theatre. 

April     3:  "Stone  Age  New  Guiana,"  with 

Lewis  Cotlow 
April  10:  "Rajasthan:  India's  Desert  State," 

with  Len  Stuttman 
April  17:  "The  Right  to  Live,"  with  C.  P. 

April  24:  "Adriatic  Italy,"  with  Al  Wolff 

Volume  42,  Number  4                    April  1971 

Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 





:>  • 


Volume  42,  Number  4 
April  1971 

Cover:  Flower  motif  found  In  designs  on 
pages  2,  4,  and  5  enlarged. 

2    Afro-American  Style  from  The  Design  Works  of 

Joyce  Zibro 

African  art  from  the  Museum's  famous  Benin  collection  inspires 
designs  for  silk-screened  textiles  produced  by  a  new  community- 
rooted  company  in  Brool<lyn 

7  IMembers'  Nights  May  6  and  7 

some  of  the  exciting  things  in  store  for  members  of  the  Museum 

8  The  White  Flowered  Bottle  Gourd 

Louis  0.  Williams 

wherever  and  whenever  man  found  this  plant,  he  put  it  to  use 

10    Hidden  Color  Pattern  in  Fossil  Shells 

Katherine  Krueger 

laundry  bleach  plus  ultraviolet  light  offer  an  exciting  new  way  to 

study  fossil  shells 

12    How  an  Exhibit  Is  Made — Color  in  Nature 

Lothar  P.  Witteborg 

why  a  museum  exhibit  must  be  designed,  not  just  assembled 

14  Book  Reviews 

15  Field  Briefs 

16  Letters 

Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 

Director,  E.  Leiand  Webber 

Editor  Joyce  Zibro;  Associate  Editor  Elizabeth  Munger;  Staff  Writer  Madge  Jacobs;  Production  Russ  Becker;  Photography  John  Bayalis, 
Fred  Huysmans. 

The  Bulletin  is  published  monthly  by  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605.  Subscrip- 
tions: $9  a  year;  $3  a  year  for  schools.  Members  of  the  Museum  subscribe  through  Museum  membership.  Opinions  expressed  by  authors 
are  their  own  and  do  not  necessarily  reflect  the  policy  of  Field  Museum.  Unsolicited  manuscripts  are  welcome.  Printed  by  Field  Museum 
Press.  Application  to  mail  at  second-class  postage  rates  is  pending  at  Chicago,  Illinois.  Postmaster:  Please  send  form  3579  to  Field  Museum 
of  Natural  History.  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605. 

Bulletin     April  1971 




from  The  Design  Works  of  Bedford-Stuyvesant 

"This  is  our  story,"  reads  a  small, 
red  card  which  comes  with  products 
from  The  Design  Works  of 
Bedford-Stuyvesant.  "In  the  fall  of 
1969,  we  opened  a  worl<shop  in 
Bedford-Stuyvesant,  dedicated  to 
creative  design  and  quality 
craftsmanship.  After  a  year  of  research, 
training  and  experimentation,  our  artists 
produced  a  first  collection  melding  the 
classics  of  African  art  with  a  distinctly 
contemporary  esthetic.  Our  craftsmen 
hand  printed  the  designs  on  cotton 
linen,  and  silk." 

Now,  after  a  lot  of  research  and 
experimentation,  and  with  the  factory's 
Print  Department  producing  500  yards 
of  fabric  a  day,  the  first  collection  from 
Design  Works  goes  on  exhibit  at  Field 
Museum.  Opening  April  7  in  Hall  9 
under  the  title  The  Afro-American  Style 
from  The  Design  Works  of 
Bedford-Stuyvesant,  the  exhibit  will 
include  many  examples  of  handsome 
silk-screened  textiles,  some  made  up 
into  apparel,  table  linens  and  decorative 
items.   Exhibited  along  with  these 
beautiful  craft  products  will  be  the 
original  art  pieces  which  inspired  their 
designs — Benin  bronzes  from  Field 
Museum's  famous  collection  of 
Benin  art. 

Field  Museum  possesses  the  largest 
and  one  of  the  most  comprehensive 
collections  of  Benin  art  in  the  United 
States.  Mr.  Leslie  Tillett,  world-famous 
textile  consultant  to  Design  Works, 
wrote  after  seeing  the  Museum's  Benin 
collection,  "A  wide  research  program 
has  been  going  on  for  many  months  to 
unearth  the  best  of  African  art.  Some  of 
this  we  have  been  lucky  enough  to  see 
in  Africa,  but  we've  found  the  most 
inspiring  group  in  the  Benin  collection 
in  your  museum." 

The  ancient  African  kingdom  of  Benin, 
in  what  is  now  western  Nigeria,  is 
recognized  as  having  produced  art  of 
high  technical  mastery  and  esthetic 
excellence  over  a  long  period — 

certainly  over  the  last  five  centuries, 
perhaps  even  longer.  Although  some 
excellent  carvings  in  ivory  and  wood 
have  come  down  to  us  from  Benin,  it  is 
the  bronzes  which  continue  to  attract 
most  attention  from  anthropologists,  art 
historians,  and  artists.  The  bronzes, 
produced  through  the  lost  wax  (cire 
perdue)  process,  were  the  work  of 
court  artists.  Included  among  the  fine 
old  pieces  which  have  come  down  to 
us  from  these  artists  are  great  bronze 
portrait  heads  of  the  Obas  (Benin  Kings) 
and  bronze  relief  panels  which  once 
decorated  the  rooms  and  galleries  of 
the  palace.  The  panels  show  the  Oba 
and  courtiers,  noble  warriors,  European 
merchants,  hunting  and  battle  scenes, 
and  the  animals  which  played  a  major 
role  in  Benin  life  such  as  panthers, 
serpents,  and  mudfish.  Life-size  bronze 
cocks  with  carefully  engraved  feathers 
were  also  produced  by  Benin  artists. 

The  lost  wax  method  of  casting,  very 
simply,  consists  of  modeling  a  wax 
image  over  a  clay  core,  covering  the 
model  with  clay,  and  applying  heat. 
At  one  and  the  same  time,  the  clay  is 
thus  made  hard  and  strong,  and  the 
wax  is  melted  away,  leaving  a  negative 
clay  impression  of  the  original  wax 
sculpture,  which  is  then  filled  with 
metal.  Finally,  the  mold  is  broken, 
leaving  the  positive  cast  in  metal.  The 
term  "lost,"  or  perdue,  refers  to  the 
original  sculpture  in  wax  which  is, 
indeed,  lost  as  the  heat  melts  it  away. 

The  lost  wax  method  of  casting  has 
probably  existed  in  Benin  since  at  least 
the  1300s  and  probably  even  earlier. 
It  may  have  been  introduced  from  the 
East  or  from  north  of  the  Sahara,  or 
both.  Benin  tradition  states  that  the 
process  was  introduced  to  Benin  by 
Iguehga,  an  artist  dispatched  from 
nearby  Ife  about  the  year  1280.  In  any 
case,  by  the  time  the  first  Europeans 
arrived  in  this  part  of  West  Africa  in 
1485,  Benin  bronze  casting  was  well 
developed.  Iguehga,  by  the  way,  is  still 
venerated  by  Benin  artists  today. 

The  high  point  in  Benin  art  was  reached 
in  the  1600s  and  lasted  through  the  first 

quarter  of  the  1700s.  Most  scholars 
agree  that  the  art  was  in  a  period  of 
decline  when  Benin  City  was  sacked 
and  burned  by  a  British  punitive 
expedition  in  1897. 

Field  Museum  early  in  its  history 
recognized  the  value  of  Benin  art  and 
acquired  many  specimens  during  the 
period  1889  to  1907.  Dr.  George  A. 
Dorsey,  then  chief  curator  of 
anthropology  at  Field  Museum,  upon  his 
return  to  the  United  States  from  a  trip  to 
England  in  1898,  wrote  a  memorandum 
to  the  director  of  the  Museum:  "While  in 
Liverpool  in  the  Free  Public  Museum, 
I  saw  for  the  first  time  a  number  of  the 
bronze  objects  and  carved  elephant 
tusks  from  Benin,  West  Africa;  later  on 
in  my  visit  to  other  European  museums, 
I  saw  a  large  number  of  additional 
specimens  especially  in  Berlin  where 
they  have  the  largest  collection  in 
existence.   These  bronze  casts  and 
carved  elephant  tusks  are  probably  the 
most  remarkable  specimens  which  have 
ever  been  brought  out  of  Africa.  Their 
presence  at  Benin  was  probably 
unknown  until  about  three  years  ago 
when  the  first  of  these  wonderful 
specimens  .  .  .  was  brought  to  the 
attention  of  anthropologists  of  Europe." 

The  collection  was  greatly  enlarged 
by  the  generous  gift  in  1963  from 
Mrs.  A.  W.  F.  Fuller  of  her  late  husband's 
major  private  collection  of  Benin  work. 
Captain  Fuller  had  been  a  life-long 
collector  of  outstanding  art  specimens 
from  Africa  and  the  South  Seas. 

The  Afro-American  Style  exhibit,  in 
addition  to  presenting  the  original  Benin 
art  work  and  the  products  from  the 
Design  Works  of  Bedford-Stuyvesant 
which  were  inspired  by  it,  will  tell  the 
history  of  this  new  enterprise.  Field 
Museum  is  pleased  to  be  playing  a  part, 
albeit  a  small  one.  The  story  goes 
something  like  this. 

"Bedford-Stuyvesant  is  the  Harlem  of 
Brooklyn,"  says  one  resident  of  the 
area.  Often  referred  to  as  the  second 

Bulletin     April  1971 

largest  ghetto  in  the  United  States, 
after  Chicago's  Southside, 
Bedford-Stuyvesant  comprises  653 
blocks  stretching  in  a  nine  square  mile 
area  of  central  Brooklyn.  Into  these 
blocks  are  crammed  half  a  million 
people,  90  per  cent  of  whom  are  black. 
Bedford-Stuyvesant  has  all  the 
problems  of  any  big  city  ghetto — 
inadequate  housing,  poor  health 
facilities,  widespread  unemployment. 
Some  statistics:  high  school  dropouts — 
80  per  cent  of  all  teenagers;  families 
headed  by  women — 36  per  cent; 
families  with  annual  income  under 
$3,000 — 27  per  cent;  unemployment — 
7  per  cent;  underemployment — 28  per 
cent;  infant  mortality  rate — one  of 
highest  in  country;  homicide  rate — 
reported  as  one  of  highest  in  country; 
rats — no  one  has  ever  counted.  (These 
figures  are  based  on  the  1960  census. 
It  is  likely  that  the  1970  census  will 
show  no  appreciable  change.) 

Early  in  the  century  Bedford-Stuyvesant 
was  a  white,  upper-middle-class 
community.  Residents  lived  in  sturdy 
brownstones,  built  between  1880  and 
1930,  along  tranquil  tree-lined  streets. 
The  first  wave  of  black  migration 
reached  Brooklyn  during  the 
Depression  of  the  1930s,  and  the 
second  wave  rolled  in  during  World 
War  II.  War  industry  jobs  were  plentiful 
then  in  the  Brooklyn  Navy  Yard,  just  a 
few  minutes  away  from  the  heart  of 

Many  of  the  aged  buildings  are  now 
decayed,  plaster  now  falls  from  walls, 
and  roaches  and  rats  run  everywhere. 
Bedford-Stuyvesant  has  no  municipal 
hospital,  and  the  area  boasts  only  one 
high  school  within  its  boundaries. 

Then  in  February  1966,  the  late  Senator 
Robert  F.  Kennedy  took  a  walking  tour 
of  Bedford-Stuyvesant.  Senator 
Kennedy's  tour  got  a  lot  of  publicity,  but 
to  the  residents  of  the  area  he  was 
just  one  more  in  a  long  procession  of 
politicians  who  walked  through  their 
misery  into  newspaper  headlines.  One 

Lynette  Charles  Johnson,  a  resident  of 
Bedford-Stuyvesant,  models  a  hostess  gown 
from  Design  Works  In  Field  Museum's 
photography  studio.  Mrs.  Johnson  worked 
part-time  as  a  lecturer  in  zoology  In  Field 
Museum's  Department  of  Education  last 
winter  while  completing  her  M.A.T.  at  the 
University  of  Chicago.  Familiar  with  Benin 
art  even  before  coming  to  the  Museum, 
Mrs.  Johnson  taught  biology  while  with  the 
Peace  Corps  for  two  years  In  Owo,  Nigeria 
— just  75  miles  northeast  of  Benin  City. 

community  leader  put  it  to  Kennedy  like 
this:  "Senator,  we  have  been  studied, 
examined,  sympathized  with,  and 
planned  for.  What  we  need  now  is 

Kennedy  acted.  Within  eleven  months, 
he  returned  to  Bedford-Stuyvesant  with 
a  program  aimed  at  nothing  less  than 
the  total  physical,  social,  and  economic 
rehabilitation  of  the  community.  By  May 
of  1967  Kennedy's  program,  backed  by 
Senator  Jacob  K.  Javits  and  Mayor 
John  V.  Lindsay,  was  in  operation. 

Two  nonprofit  corporations  were 
formed:  Bedford-Stuyvesant  Restoration 
Corporation,  whose  twenty-six  board 
members  are  local  residents,  and 
Bedford-Stuyvesant  Development  and 
Services  Corporation,  whose 
twelve-man  board  is  drawn  from  the 
nation's  business  establishment. 
Franklin  A.  Thomas,  a  lifelong  resident 
of  Bedford-Stuyvesant  and  a  former 
deputy  police  commissioner  and  former 
assistant  U.S.  attorney  from  the 
southern  district  of  New  York,  was  hired 
as  president  and  executive  director  of 
Restoration  Corporation.  Eli  S.  Jacobs, 
an  investment  banker,  took  leave  of 
absence  from  White,  Weld  and 
Company  to  direct  Development  and 
Services  until  a  permanent  replacement 
could  be  found.  Early  in  1968,  John 
Doar,  former  assistant  attorney  general 
of  the  civil  rights  division  of  the 
Department  of  Justice,  took  over  the  job. 

Restoration  Corporation  with  its  staff  of 
150  local  residents  develops  and  directs 
projects.  Development  and  Services 
Corporation  has  such  business  giants 
on  the  board  as  IBM  chairman  Thomas 
Watson,  William  Paley,  chairman  of 
CBS,  C.  Douglas  Dillon,  former 
Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  and  Benno  C. 
Schmidt,  managing  partner  of  J.  B. 
Whitney  &  Co.,  along  with  Ethel 
Kennedy,  who  took  her  husband's  place 
on  the  board.  They  raise  funds, 
generate  ideas,  bring  in  new 
businesses,  and  provide  technical 
expertise  in  administration. 

These  two  corporations  working  hand 
in  hand  have  produced  some 
impressive  results  in  Bedfort-Stuyvesant. 
More  than  fifty  one-  to  four-family 
brownstone  houses  have  been 
rehabilitated  and  resold  to  community 
people  at  cost.  An  additional  1,828 
houses  have  undergone  exterior 
renovation.  Over  1 ,600  new  jobs  have 
been  created  and  some  3,000  people 
placed  in  new  or  existing  jobs.  This  is 

Bulletin     April  1971 

in  addition  to  the  work  done  at  four 
Neighborhood  Centers  through 
programs  dealing  with  health  care, 
youth  development,  sanitation,  and 
cultural  affairs  and  education. 

Where  does  The  Design  Works  of 
Bedford-Stuyvesant  come  in?  It  was 
bound  to  happen — a  local  firm  that 
recognized  the  importance  of  Africa  as 
a  source  of  inspiration  for  the  designs 
and  manufacture  of  textiles.  Restoration 
Corporation  produced  the  idea  of  a 
textile  business  to  develop  talents  of 
local  residents  while  at  the  same  time 
helping  an  ethnic  minority  give 
expression  to  its  own  cultural 
background.  In  conjunction  with 
Development  and  Services  Corporation, 
they  raised  some  $120,000  of  the 
venture  capital.  The  First  National 
Capital  Corporation  together  with  Wall 
Street  investors  Peter  Loeb  and  Robert 
Tobin  contributed  amounts  adding  up  to 
$60,000.  Another  $60,000  was  lent  by 
the  Chemical  Bank. 

Mr.  IVIark  Bethel,  president  of  Design 
Works,  considers  the  fourteen  persons 
presently  employed  by  the  company  as 
the  "nucleus,  or  fiber,  for  future 
expansion."  With  the  exception  of  four 
employees  in  the  Print  Department,  all 
have  professional  experience  in  their 
respective  areas. 

Briefly,  this  is  how  the  operation  works. 
Using  African  art  as  inspiration  (in  the 
case  of  this  first  collection,  Field 
Museum's  Benin  bronzes),  patterns  are 
designed  and  coordinated.  The  design 
is  then  sent  out  to  be  photographed 
and  made  into  a  silkscreen,  which 
consists  of  material  stretched  on  a 
heavy  wooden  frame  on  which  the 
design  has  been  stenciled  and  the 
areas  which  are  to  remain  white  painted 
with  some  substance,  such  as  gum  or 
shellac,  which  will  make  the  material 
impervious  to  the  ink  used.  When  the 
screen  is  returned  to  Design  Works  for 
reproduction,  it  is  placed  in  contact 
with  the  fabric  to  be  printed  and  a 
puddle  of  ink  is  scraped  from  one  end 

Bulletin    April  1971 

Too  valuable  to  be  included  in  the  traveling 
exhibit  of  The  Afro-American  Style,  Field 
Museum's  original  Benin  bronzes  have  been 
reproduced  in  fiber  glass  casts.  Here,  John 
Harris,  preparator  in  the  Museum's 
Department  of  Geology,  removes  the  fiber 
glass  cast  of  a  bronze  cock  from  the  mold. 
The  original  Benin  bronze  cock  is  at  left. 

to  the  other  by  means  of  a  rubber 
squeegee.  The  design  is  reproduced 
on  the  cloth  as  the  color  is  forced 
through  the  pores  of  the  screen  in  areas 
not  blocked  out  by  the  gum  or  shellac. 
One  design  can  require  as  many  as 
four  or  five  screens,  one  for  each  color 
in  the  pattern.  It  is  a  hand  process  and 
gives  a  precise,  clear  pattern. 

Various  w/elghts  of  cotton  are  used  for 
the  majority  of  the  textiles,  from 
sailcloth  for  drapery  and  upholstery 
material  to  butterfly  net  for  sheer 
curtains.  In  addition,  three  vi^eights  of 
silk  are  used,  primarily  for  boutique 
Items  such  as  ties,  scarves,  and  some 
apparel.  The  colorist  for  Design  Works 
mixes  all  of  the  more  than  forty  colors 
to  print  on  the  fabric.  Printing  is  done 

on  three  thirty-yard-long  tables.  The 
large  screens  require  two-man  teams. 
Daily  output  is  about  500  yards. 

If  the  response  of  major  department 
stores  across  the  nation  can  be  used  as 
a  gauge.  Design  Works  is  well  on  its 
way  to  success.  It  markets  its  products 
in  Its  own  boutique  shops — one  located 
on  the  premises  at  1 1  New  York  Avenue 
and  another  on  the  upper  East  Side  of 
Manhattan — as  well  as  In  key  stores 
across  the  country.  Including  W.  J. 
Sloane  in  Washington  and  New  York, 
Bloomingdale's  in  New  York,  Marshall 
Field  in  Chicago,  Woodward  and 
Lothrop  in  Washington,  D.C.,  and  I. 
Magnin  In  California. 

"Our  goal,"  says  Bethel,  "Is  to  seek  out 
and  develop  the  black  talents  of  the 
community,  it  is  projected  that 
eventually  Design  Works  will  employ 
250  persons." 

Two  hundred  fifty  jobs  in  a  sea  of 
one-half  million  people  may  not  sound 
like  much,  but  when  you  multiply 
Design  Works  by  the  fifty  other  local 
businesses  started  through  Restoration 
Corporation  and  consider  that  all 
employees  are  local  residents  pouring 
their  money  back  into  the  community, 
the  picture  takes  on  another  complexion. 
The  people  of  Bedford-Sluyvesant,  with 
a  helping  hand  from  big  business,  have 
that  proverbial  bootstrap  In  hand  and 
they're  pulling  hard. 

Joseph  Coles,  a  former  laundry  truck 
driver  and  now  production  foreman  in 
Design  Works  print  shop,  sums  it  up 
like  this:  "Businesses  like  The  Design 
Works  of  Bedford-Stuyvesant  aid 
everyone.  I  feel  it  builds  community 

closeness,  an  interest  in  the  community 
and  bettering  it.  Like  most  depressed 
areas,  work  Is  hard  to  obtain  here. 
Bedford-Stuyvesant  Is  not  industrial, 
and  many  people  have  to  go  out  of  the 
borough  to  Manhattan  to  get  work. 
Once  we  and  other  businesses  like  us 
get  established,  it  will  be  more 
convenient  for  residents  of  the  area  to 
get  work.  A  mother  who  wants  to  work, 
for  example,  must  travel  to  Manhattan 
and  can't  be  home  with  her  children  at 
lunch.  If  she  could  find  work  in  the 
borough,  a  fifteen-minute  ride  home 
would  enable  her  to  prepare  lunch  for 
her  children."  Coles  views  his  job  In 
Design  Works  as  "hard  work  but  work 
you  can  see  the  end  results  of.  It's 
something  you've  had  a  hand  in,"  he 
says,  "and  you  know  that  you  did  It 
with  your  utmost  ability." 

The  Afro-American  Style  from  The 
Design  Works  of  Bedford-Stuyvesant 
will  remain  at  Field  Museum  through 
September  21.  Field  Museum's  chief 
exhibit  designer  Ben  Kozak  designed 
the  exhibit  so  It  can  easily  be 
disassembled  to  travel  and,  if  funding 
can  be  obtained,  it  will  travel  around 
the  state  of  Illinois  In  the  fall.  In  the 
meantime,  ten  smaller  traveling 
exhibits  have  also  been  prepared. 
These  will  be  displayed  in  community 
centers  in  Chicago's  Inner  city  through 
spring  and  summer. 

A  museum  Is  not  often  recognized  as  a 
resource  that  can  stimulate  combined 
artistic  and  economic  development. 
This  function,  among  our  many,  applies 
directly  to  some  of  our  contemporary 

Joyce  Zibro  is  editor  of  the  Field  Museum 
Bulletin  and  Public  Relations  Manager. 

Bulletin     April  1971 


OPEN   HOUSE  FROM  6:00  TO  10:00  P.M. 

Members'  Nights,  1971,  feature  "The  World  Around  Us."   Each  night  will  be  a  full, 
identical  program  of  special  exhibits,  films,  entertainment,  and  demonstrations 
focusing  on  this  theme.  Something  will  be  happening  on  all  four  floors  every  moment. 

You  can 

learn  about  how  Important  color  is  for  plants  and  animals  in  their  struggle  for 
evolutionary  survival. 

go  fossil-hunting  (by  a  film)  in  Illinois  for  Pennsylvanian  concretions  with  a  staff 

preview  the  reinstallation  of  Malvina  Hoffman's  famous  sculptures  of  people 
from  various  parts  of  the  world,  "Portraits  of  Man." 

see  (and  even  buy)  modern  Afro-American  style  textiles  with  silk-screened 
designs  inspired  by  the  Museum's  Benin  bronzes  from  Nigeria. 

shop  for  jewelry,  textiles  and  coffee  in  "Tiendacita  Guatemalteca"  (a  little 
Guatemalan  store). 

follow  the  "Search  for  Some  of  Nature's  Surprises"  (arranged  especially  for 


see  four  films:   "Patterns  for  Survival"  (A  Study  of  Mimicry),  "Fossils:  From  Site  to 
Museum,  "  "Malvina  Hoffman:  Her  Travels  and  Works,"  and  "Color  in  Flowers" 
(a  slide-lecture). 

— and  this  is  most  fascinating  to  many  people — go  behind  the  scenes  in 

research  areas  and  meet  the  scientific  staff.   Some  of  the  special  offerings  by  the 
departments  of  anthropology,  botany,  geology  and  zoology,  in  addition  to  those 
shown  in  the  photographs,  include: 

a  display  of  pottery  recently  collected  in  Nigeha 

a  continuing  discussion  by  staff  members:  "The  Botanical  Library 
and  its  uses" 

a  display  interpreting  "Faults  and  Earthquakes" 

an  exhibit  explaining  the  "Water  Supply  of  Chicago" 

an  exhibit  of  skeletal  materials  used  to  make  articles  of  personal 
adornment  from  around  the  world,  together  with  specimens  of  the 
finished  product  and  photographs  of  the  live  animals. 

Our  membership  has  been  growing,  and  so  has  the  popularity  of  this  once-a-year 
event  arranged  just  for  members.  Attendance  has  gone  from  3,000  in  1966,  and 
4,500  in  1968  to  8,500  in  1970.  That  is  why  this  year's  program  will  be  a  two-night 
instead  of  a  one-night-stand.  Attendance  on  Friday  night  will  probably  be  much 
heavier  because  families  with  children  will  prefer  to  come  then.  We  urge  you  to 
plan  on  coming  Thursday  night  if  you  don't  have  school  children. 

Photos,  top  to  bottom.  "Fossil  Show  and  Tell,"  (or  bring  your  own  coal-age  fossils  and 
match  them  with  ours!)  with  Dr.  Eugene  S.  Richardson,  Jr.,  curator  of  fossil  invertebrates. 
Department  of  Geology.  Left,  Department  of  Botany  herbarium  assistant  Ronald  Liesner 
demonstrates  how  plant  material  is  prepared  for  the  herbarium.   Right,  Melvin  A.  Traylor, 
associate  curator  of  birds,  Department  of  Zoology,  shows  part  of  the  Museum's  Birds  of 
Paradise  collection.  Mrs.  Christine  Danziger,  conservator.  Department  of  Anthropology,  tells 
about  one  of  the  Haida  model  houses  from  the  Northwest  Coast,  collected  in  the  late  19th 
century.  Mrs.  Danziger  is  responsible  for  the  architectural  reconstruction  and  preservation  of 
the  polychrome  sculpture  of  these  houses.  Mario  Villa,  tanner,  Department  of  Zoology,  and 
some  of  the  animal  skins  he  will  show  Museum  members. 

Bulletin    April  1971 

The  White  Flowered  Bottle  Gourd 

Louis  O.  Williams 

Of  all  the  plants  useful  to  man, 
Lagenaria  siceraria  (N/lol.)  Standley 
must  surely  be  one  whose  usefulness 
is  most  obvious  from  just  a  glance. 
Its  common  English  name — bottle  gourd 
— succinctly  suggests  this  usefulness. 
When  the  fruit  of  the  plant  is  functioning 
as  a  utensil,  it  is  usually  called  calabash 
— calabaza  in  Spanish-speaking 
countries  of  America. 

In  spite  of  its  obvious  usefulness, 
sometimes  the  plant  is  not  even 
Included  in  works  on  economic  botany, 
that  branch  concerned  with  the  kinds 
of  plants  "useful"  to  man.  The  whole 
range  of  economic  plants  has  been 
subdivided  into  categories  in  about  as 
many  ways  as  there  have  been  authors 
writing  about  them.  The  four  categories 
set  up  by  Dr.  Albert  F.  Hill  in  his 
volume  entitled  Economic  Botany,  for 
Instance,  are:  Industrial  Plants  and 
Plant  Products,  Drug  Plants  and  Drugs, 
Food  Plants,  and  Food  Adjuncts. 
The  bottle  gourd  does  not  seem  to  fit 
into  any  of  the  four — and  indeed  it  is 
not  mentioned  in  the  book. 

We  assume  that  the  bottle  gourd 
originated  in  the  Old  World,  although 
Linnaeus,  when  he  described  the  plant 
in  1753,  presumed  that  it  was  American. 
Alphonse  de  Gandolle's  Origin  of 
Cultivated  Plants  Is  still  one  of  the  best 
sources  on  the  origin  of  useful  plants 
(my  copy  is  the  English  edition  of  1884). 
De  Candolle  believed  the  literature  to 
indicate  that  the  gourd  was  native  to  or 
at  least  wild  in  Africa  and  from  there 
spread  to  the  rest  of  the  tropical  world. 
He  did  not  believe  that  the  plant 
existed  in  America  before  the  arrival 
of  Europeans.  We  know  now,  however, 
that  it  was  in  America  and  widely 
dispersed  here  long  before  European 
man  arrived. 

Dr.  Richard  MacNeish  has  just  sent 
word  in  a  personal  communication  of 
much  the  oldest  radio-carbon  date  for 
any  New  World  bottle  gourd  material: 
"Two  pieces  of  probably  wild  Lagenaria 
in  Ayacucho  [Peru]  complex,  dated 
12,200  B.C."  This  evidence  does  not 

Carved  gourd.  Yoruba  tribe,  Oyo,  Nigeria. 
Collected  1970. 

of  course  imply  human  use,  although  it 
is  now  believed  that  man  may  have 
arrived  in  Peru  at  about  the  same 

The  oldest  known  New  World  bottle 
gourds  associated  with  human  use, 
excavated  in  the  Ocampo  Caves  in  the 
Mexican  state  of  Tamaulipas,  have 
been  dated  at  about  7000  B.C.  by  the 
carbon-dating  technique.  Both  the  Old 
and  the  New  World  have  yielded 
evidence  from  the  fourth  millennium 
B.C.  Specimens  have  been  found  in  an 
Egyptian  tomb  of  the  Fifth  Dynasty,  and 
Junius  B.  Bird  found  abundant  material 
in  the  Huaca  Prieta  midden  in  Peru  in 
strata  dated  at  about  2500  B.C. 
Thousands  of  fragments  indicated 
various  uses,  and  intact  gourds  attached 
to  fishing  nets  indicated  that  they 
had  been  used  for  floats,  as  they  still 
are  today. 

If  as  a  hunter  and  fisherman  prehistoric 
man  migrated  to  the  New  World  from 
Asia  across  the  Bering  Sea,  which  is 
the  present  widely  held  belief,  it  would 
have  been  virtually  impossible  for  him 
to  have  brought  the  bottle  gourd,  or 
any  other  plant,  with  him.  The  regions 
he  had  to  traverse  were  far  too  harsh 
and  the  time  span,  measured  in  human 
generations,  far  too  long  for  any  plant 
life  to  have  moved  with  him,  for  it 
would  have  to  have  been  propagated 
along  the  way.  The  only  commensals 
or  companions  that  could  have 

accompanied  man  on  this  great  trek 
were  probably  his  dogs,  which,  like 
man,  can  sustain  themselves  on  a 
purely  hunting  and  fishing  diet. 

When  man  from  Asia  did  reach  an  area 
far  enough  south  to  meet  the  bottle 
gourd  plant  in  its  preferred  habitat,  no 
doubt  he  quickly  discovered  these 
fruits  which  can  be  such  useful 
containers  for  many  things.  And  no 
doubt  he — or,  perhaps,  she — began 
selecting  gourds  by  shape  and  size. 
One  for  a  water  bottle,  one  for  a  float 
for  a  fish  net,  one  to  make  into  a  cup, 
and  so  on.  He  may  have  merely 
exploited  different  shapes  of  the  gourd 
or  he  may  have  helped  to  establish 
different  shapes  by  his  picking  and 
choosing.  Most  likely,  a  little  of  both 
happened.  In  any  event,  we  do  have 
many  types  today,  in  both  the  New 
World  and  the  Old  World. 

But  do  we  have  a  single  species  in  the 
two  hemispheres  or  are  two  different 
species  improperly  covered  by  the 
name  Lagenaria  siceraria?  To  prove 
the  point  one  way  or  the  other  would 
require  a  considerable  amount  of  field 
work  and  garden  cultivation  and  study. 

Group  of  eight  fishnet  floats  dating  from 
about  1600  B.C.  found  together  with  fishnet 
of  cotton  cord  at  Huaca  Prieta  on  the  shore 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Chicama  Valley,  Peru. 
At  same  excavation  site,  pieces  of  same 
type  gourd  found  at  bottom  of  deposit  dated 
from  about  2500  B.C.  Photo  by  Dr.  Junius  B. 
Bird  courtesy  American  Museum  of  Natural 

Bulletin     April  1971 

No  modern  scientific  study  of  the 
systennatics  of  Lagenaria  has  been 
published.  Dr.  Alfred  Cogniaux,  the  last 
and  great  monographer  of  the  cucurbit 
family,  considered  all  the  bottle  gourds 
to  be  a  single  species  that  were  native 
to  tropical  Africa  and  India  but  were 
then  (1881)  found  over  the  rest  of  the 
tropical  world,  either  cultivated  or 
growing  at  the  edges  of  disturbed  land. 
Botanists  invariably  complain,  and  I 
among  them,  that  they  never  have 
sufficient  material  or  knowledge  about 
a  plant  or  a  group  of  plants  under 
study.  This  is  especially  true  of  plants 
used  by  man. 

If  two  species  are  involved,  they  would 
have  arisen  independently  of  one 
another  in  the  two  hemispheres.  The 
improbabilities  are  enormous  that  such 
close  convergence  would  have 
occurred,  though  convergence  is  a  well 
known  biological  phenomenon — that 
is,  two  different  and  geographically 
separated  lines  of  evolutionary  descent 
becoming  like  each  other. 

It  seems  to  me  more  reasonable  to 
assume  that  only  one  species  is 
involved  and  that  the  plant  arrived  in 
America  a  very  long  time  ago.  How, 
then,  did  it  get  here  from  the  other 
hemisphere?  There  seem  to  be  two 
possibilities:  it  drifted  across  an  ocean 
by  itself,  or  it  was  carried  in  a  manned 
or  empty  canoe. 

Mature  bottle  gourds  are  very  durable, 
and  they  are  light  in  weight  and  float 
easily.  Dr.  Thomas  Whitaker  and 
Dr.  George  F.  Carter  in  "A  Note  on 
Longevity  of  Seed  of  Lagenaria 
siceraria  (Mol.)  Standi,  after  Floating  in 
Sea  Water"  (1961)  reported  that  after 
they  floated  bottle  gourd  fruits  for  347 
days  and  then  stored  them  for  six 
years,  24  per  cent  of  the  seeds  finally 
germinated.  These  tests  indicate  that 
Lagenaria  siceraria  fruits  could  have 
been  distributed  from  continent  to 
continent  by  oceanic  drift.  Of  course 
there  is  still  no  proof  that  they  did. 

Whitaker  and  Carter  point  out  that  the 
bottle  gourd  is  not  a  strand  plant. 

Even  if  gourds  had  been  transported 
by  oceanic  drift,  they  would  have  to 
have  been  carried  from  the  place  where 
stranded  to  a  suitable  ecological  niche. 
I  would  point  out  that  such  a  "suitable 
ecological  niche"  often  occurs  in  the 
disturbed  land  right  behind  a  strand. 

I  like  the  drift  theory  better  than  the 
transport  theory  because  it  seems  to  me 
probable  that  this  interesting  plant 
established  itself  in  the  New  World  a 
very  long  time  before  man  did.  The 
ocean  currents  that  wash  the  western 
side  of  Africa  flow  west  and  wash  the 
eastern  side  of  South  America.  (The 
currents  on  the  western  side  mostly 
flow  outward  toward  the  Pacific  basin.) 
Hence  the  possibility  of  gourds  drifting 
over  from  Africa  has  existed  for 
perhaps  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
years.  It  seems  to  me  probable  that 
they  did  so  many  times.  If  they  were 
transported  in  man-made  craft,  they 
could  hardly  have  come  over  more 
than  15,000  years  ago,  and  probably 
a  lot  more  recently.  Whatever  sea-going 
craft  man  might  have  made  that  long 
ago  could  hardly  have  sustained  the 

There  is  the  argument  that,  if  the 
bottle  gourd  is  so  old  here,  we  should 
find  it  growing  wild.  I  would  reply  that 
much  field  experience  in  the  tropics 

has  taught  me  that  it  is  difficult  to  look 
at  a  plant  and  be  sure  whether  or  not 
it  is  "wild."  Lagenaria  siceraria  does 
like  disturbed  land,  such  as  at  the 
edges  of  cultivation.  But  land  behind 
a  strand  is  also  disturbed,  and  not 
necessarily  by  human  beings.  Also, 
there  are  several  other  cucurbits  that 
are  useful  to  man  which  no  one  doubts 
are  native  to  America  but  which  have 
never,  to  my  knowledge,  been  seen  as 
"wild"  plants.  They  too  are  found  in 
archaeological  midden  heaps. 

Thus  the  category  "useful  plants," 
which  may  be  as  old  as  man  himself, 
does  not  mean  that  the  movement  of 
such  plants  is  necessarily  associated 
with  man.  One  of  man's  blessings  is  his 
imagination — which  includes  his  ability 
to  recognize  a  good  thing  when  he 
sees  it.  The  bottle  gourd  is  such  an 
obviously  "good  thing."  It  is  easy  to 
believe  that  wherever  and  whenever  he 
found  it,  man  would  soon  begin  to 
use  it. 

Dr.  Louis  0.  Williams  is  chairman  ol  the 
Department  ol  Botany  at  Field  Museum. 

Bulletin     April  1971 

Hidden  color  pattern  in  fossil  shells 

Katherine  Krueger 

Modern  species  of  seashells  display 
distinctive  colors,  shapes,  and  surface 
ornamentation.  Ivlost  buried  sfiells, 
during  the  processes  of  fossilization, 
become  dull  white.  With  rare 
exceptions,  even  the  most  perfectly 
preserved  fossil  specimens  lack  color. 
Therefore  paleontologists  have  had  to 
rely  on  the  small  variations  of 
ornamentation  and  sculpture  to 
differentiate  species  within  the  larger 



Top  to  bottom:  Conus  spurius  (Recent  or 

modern),  Conus  spurius  (fossil),  Conus 

spurius  (fossil  under  ultraviolet  light). 

groups,  unaided  by  the  additional  factor 
of  color  pattern  that  helps  biologists 
classify  the  often  brightly  colored  living 

Some  groups  of  shells  may  occur  in 
both  modern  and  fossil  collections, 
since  many  present-day  molluscan 
families  were  already  in  existence  as 
much  as  70  million  years  ago.  So  that 
the  relationship  between  modern  and 
fossil  specimens  can  be  firmly 
established — the  true  evolution  of  a 
species  traced — the  paleontologist 
studying  the  Ice  Age  or  older  shells 
would  like  to  use  the  same  guidelines  as 
the  biologists.  In  the  last  ten  years  one 
such  guideline,  the  color  pattern,  has 
been  developed.  Some  fossil  shells 
will,  under  ultraviolet  light,  show 
fluorescence  wherever  former 
coloration  occurred  on  the  shell.  Thus 
the  paleontologist  can  observe  a  color 
pattern  almost  as  readily  as  can  a 

This  fluorescence  phenomenon  is  being 
actively  investigated  by  Drs.  Harold  E. 
and  Emily  H.  Vokes  at  Tulane  University 
in  New  Orleans  and  by  Dr.  Axel  A. 
Olsson  of  Coral  Gables,  Florida.  They 
have  worked  out  techniques  for 
photographing  the  shells  under 
ultraviolet  light  and  are  using  the  color 
patterns  as  important,  definitive  data  in 
their  studies.  tVlost  of  their  research 
has  been  on  fossil  shells  of  the 
southeastern  United  States  from  the 
dawn  of  the  Tertiary,  approximately  70 
million  years  ago,  to  Recent  time. 
fVlany  correlations  had  previously  been 
drawn  between  fossil  species  and  their 
Recent  relatives,  but  evolutionary  paths 
of  groups  have  always  been  littered 
with  problems  of  "missing  links"  or 
poor  specimens.  Every  new  method  of 
establishing  a  relationship  between 
shells  of  different  geologic  epochs  is 
welcome.  The  fluorescence 
phenomenon  promises  to  be  a  highly 
significant  method. 

What  one  sees  under  the  ultraviolet 
light  is  not  really  the  color,  but  rather 
the  color  pa»em  of  a  shell.  It  was 
Alex  Comfort  who,  only  20  years  ago. 


Bulletin     April  1971 

pointed  out  that  when  a  living  mollusk 
secretes  shell  material  from  its  mantle 
it  introduces  pigmentation  into  certain 
zones  of  the  developing  shell.  The 
pigment-producing  cells,  called 
chromatophores,  vary  in  position.  As 
their  position  changes,  the  pigmented 
zones  they  produce  narrow  or  expand 
into  stripes.  If  the  chromatophores 
move  back  and  forth,  zigzags  appear. 
Intermittent  activity  of  the 
chromatophores  produces  a  series  of 
dots.  A  continuous  band  of  the  cells 
produces  the  background  color  of  a 
shell.   The  location  of  these 
chromatophores  and  their  range  of 
movement  are  determined  by  the 
genetic  code  of  a  species.  The  patterns 
they  make  constitute  as  distinctive  a 
feature  as  the  various  ridges,  nodes,  or 
whorls  of  a  shell,  although  often  they 
are  highly  variable  within  a  species. 

The  actual  color  produced  by  these 
chromatophores,  which  we  don't  see 
under  ultraviolet  light,  usually  is  not 
significant  for  taxonomists,  since  the 
animal's  diet  can  influence  the  color  of 
its  shell,  and  its  growth  rate  can  affect 
the  intensity  of  this  color.  Therefore, 
the  color  patterns  that  we  do  see  under 
ultraviolet  light  in  some  cases  convey 
more  useful  information  than  the  actual 
colors  of  the  shells,  which  we  don't  see. 

Under  ultraviolet  light  the  patterns 

appear  to  glow  against  a  purple 
background.  This  fluorescence  occurs 
when  the  ultraviolet  light  excites  certain 
electrons  in  the  pigment  molecules, 
which  are  still  locked  in  the  shell 
material.  Though  these  pigments  were 
rendered  colorless  by  chemical 
alteration  after  burial  because  of  the 
action  of  ground  water,  their  basic 
molecules  are  still  there. 

But  the  shell  must  be  properly  prepared 
before  the  ultraviolet  light  will  reveal 
the  position  of  the  pigment.  Many 
shells  naturally  exposed  to  sunlight  on 
the  fossil  outcrop  for  a  length  of  time 
will,  without  any  further  treatment, 
fluoresce  under  ultraviolet  light.  Shells 
that  have  remained  buried  since  their 
original  deposition  millions  of  years  ago 
will  fluoresce  if  first  soaked  in  strong 
laundry  bleach  for  a  minimum  of  three 
days.  In  some  cases  the  bleach  will 
even  produce  a  rust-colored  pattern 
where  the  pigmented  regions  occur. 

Probably  the  ultraviolet  light  technique 
reveals  the  position  of  only  certain 
pigments  and  not  others.  But  this  kind 
of  research  is  very  new,  and  its  full 
capabilities  have  yet  to  be  learned.  It  is 
an  exciting  new  tool  for  tracing  the 
ancestry  of  living  mollusks  in  fossil 

Katherine  Krueger  is  assistant  in  paleontology 
in  Field  Museum's  Department  of  Geology. 

Left  to  right:  Scaphella  junonia  (Recent  or 
modern),  Scaphella  floridana  (fossil). 
Scaphella  floridana  (fossil  under  ultraviolet 
light).  Photos  courtesy  Drs.  Harold  E.  and 
Emily  H.  Vokes,  Tulane  University, 
Department  of  Geology. 

Bulletin    April  1971 



an  exhibit 

is  made  —  Color  in  Nature 

What  is  behind  the  Museum's 
presentation  of  a  new  exhibit  like  Color 
in  Nature  in  Hall  25,  which  was  opened 
to  the  public  March  11? 

It  started  as  one  item  among  many 
in  a  list  of  suggested  1971  exhibits 
assembled  early  in  1970  by  Solomon 
Smith,  the  Museum's  coordinator  of 
temporary  exhibits.  It  emerged  as  one 
of  the  four  selected  by  the  Museum's 
ten-man  exhibit  committee — composed 
of  the  director,  chairmen  of  the  four 
divisions  (anthropology,  botany, 
geology,  zoology),  chairman  of  the 
education  dpartment,  planning  and 
development  officer,  building 
superintendent,  business  manager,  and 
chairman  of  the  exhibition  department. 

It  was  among  those  chosen  because 
color,  as  one  of  the  fundamental 
dimensions  of  nature,  is  also  one  of  the 
main  dimensions  of  the  Museum's 
collections.  We  know  that  the 
evolutionary  function  of  color  in  plants 
and  animals  is  often  a  critical  aspect  of 
their  total  character.  We  are  aware  of 
color  in  inanimate  nature,  but  little 
more  than  some  physical  facts  about 
how  it  is  produced  are  understood. 

The  choice  and  execution  of  the 
Color  in  Nature  exhibit  demonstrates 
two  exciting  modern  ideas  in  operation. 

Assistant  graphic  designer  Kathleen 

Bob  Martin,  designer  of  the  exhibit. 

One  is  about  the  nature  of  learning, 
and  one  is  about  the  art  of  design. 

Old  ideas  about  both  learning  and 
design  usually  involved  static  facts  or 
objects  or  pieces.  New  ideas  about 
both  involve  a  sense  of  dynamic  flow. 
For  instance,  knowledge  was  often 
thought  of  as  accumulation  of  facts — 
orderly,  but  in  an  essentially 
encyclopedic  kind  of  order.  "Furniture 
of  the  mind"  was  a  favorite  metaphor, 
but  it  did  not  mean  the  kind  of 
comfortable  furniture  that  invites  one  to 
slouch  in  it  with  shoes  off.  Knowledge 
is  now  more  often  thought  of  as  systems 
and  subsystems  of  relationships  with 
which  we  interact.  Unless  "pieces"  of 
information  can  be  assimilated  into 
patterns,  little  "learning"  occurs. 

Similarly,  the  old  concept  of  design  was 
based  on  arrangement  of  static 
elements  around  an  axis,  a  kind  of 
"middle,"  so  as  to  produce  a  sense  of 
equilibrium  or  symmetry.  Design  was 
often  thought  of  as  decoration  for  its 
own  sake,  to  satisfy  an  esthetic 
appetite.  Design  is  now  more  often 
thought  of  as  a  means  to  improve  the 
effectiveness  of  communication  and  the 
flow  of  information. 

Both  of  these  new  ideas  are  rooted  in 
the  fast,  complex  flow  of  modern 

Lothar  P.  Witteborg 

industrial  "mass"  society.  And  both 
ideas  represent  challenge  within  the 
walls  of  a  natural  history  museum  as 
much  as  in  the  "outside  world."  A 
natural  history  museum  is  now  an 
essential  part  of  the  mass  education 
framework  necessary  to  support  a 
modern  society.  It  must  certainly 
continue  to  develop  further  its  capacity 
to  generate  new  knowledge  and 
understanding  through  research,  but  its 
unique  responsibility — different  from 
that  of  all  other  institutions  in  our 
society — is  to  make  knowledge  about 
our  natural  world  concrete,  accessible, 
and  understandable  to  everyone.  A 
museum  is  truly  the  most  public  of  all 
educational  institutions.  The  challenge 
is  to  educate  by  conveying 
understanding  of  the  patterns  of  these 
complex,  dynamic  interrelationships. 

The  design  of  nature  is  a  dynamic  flow 
with  many  dimensions.  Our  designs  for 
explaining  it  in  exhibits  must  flow  too 
and  must  combine  as  much  concrete 
demonstration  as  possible  with  only  as 
much  abstract  explanation  in  words  as 
necessary.  The  whole  must  create  a 
synthesis  of  visual  appeal  to  both  the 
emotions  (by  its  interest)  and  the  mind 
(by  its  logic). 

To  attempt  to  achieve  such  a  grand 
goal,  exhibit  designers  must  think  first, 

Exhibition  Department  illustrator 
Zbigniew  T.  Jastrzebski. 


Bulletin     April  1971 

work  later.  They  must  thoroughly 
understand  the  Information  content  and 
all  the  interrelationships  in  order  to  find 
the  "storyline"  pattern  around  which 
they  can  build  to  satisfy  the  three 
fundamental  design  principles — function, 
flow,  and  form. 

In  the  case  of  Color  in  Nature,  the 
Museum's  first  sizable  interdisciplinary 
exhibit,  the  several  "storylines"  worked 
up  by  each  of  the  scientific  staff 
concerned  had  to  be  woven  together. 
The  exhibit  is  probably  the  most 
comprehensive  assemblage  of 
information  about  color  in  nature  that 
has  yet  been  attempted  anywhere. 
Rupert  L.  Wenzel,  chairman  of  the 
Department  of  Zoology,  was  the  overall 
scientific  coordinator;  Donald  Simpson 
contributed  for  Botany;  Edward  J.  Olsen 
for  Minerals;  Melvin  A.  Traylor  for  Birds; 
Hymen  Marx  for  Amphibians  and 
Reptiles;  Loren  P.  Woods  for  Fish; 
Alan  Solem  for  Invertebrates;  Philip 
Hershkovitz  for  Mammals;  and  John 
Kethley  for  Insects. 

Bob  Martin  of  the  Exhibition  Department, 
assigned  to  the  project  as  main 
designer,  and  Solomon  Smith  did 
extensive  background  reading  in  the 
subject  matter  and  met  frequently  with 
the  scientists  as  a  general  plan  for  the 

Bob  Martin  and  student  helper  Dale  Lehman 
install  some  of  the  larger  specimens  first. 

A  segment  of  the  finished  exhibit. 

exhibit  took  shape.  Eventually  a  rough 
scale  model  was  made  that  divided  the 
available  space  in  Hall  25  into  broad 
subject  areas  and  a  visitor  flow  path. 

The  designer  always  has  these 
performance  standards  in  mind:  (1)  to 
provide  visual  interest  to  gain  attention 
and  start  the  viewer's  eye  moving;  (2) 
to  simplify  visual  representation  and 
organization  for  speed  in  viewing, 
reading,  and  understanding;  and  (3)  to 
provide  visual  continuity  for  clarity  in 
sequence.  To  satisfy  these  criteria  in 
the  realm  of  museum  exhibition  design, 
we  divide  the  design  problem  into  two 
distinct  areas  of  specialty.  The 
three-dimensional,  or  exhibit,  designer 
works  with  space  and  structure  plus 
color  and  lighting.  The  graphic  designer 
works  with  one-dimensional  forms, 
color,  typography,  and  projected  visual 
images  (in  this  case,  slides).  The  two 
specialists  must  work  in  close  harmony 
in  order  to  achieve  the  desired  results. 
Don  Skinner  came  into  the  project  as 
graphic  designer  at  this  stage,  when  the 
general  spatial  arrangement  of  the 
exhibit  and  the  specific  areas  of  content 
were  being  tied  down. 

After  decisions  were  made  about  the 
specimens  and  objects  to  be  used,  we 
needed  also  the  specialized  artistic  and 
technical  skills  of  the  illustrator,  the 

model  maker,  the  sculptor,  the 
taxidermist,  the  audio-visual  expert, 
and  numerous  other  specialists. 

Most  of  the  specimens  chosen  were 
rather  small,  so  Bob  Martin  had  to 
develop  a  method  to  protect  them  that 
would  not  interfere  with  easy  viewing  or 
would  not  distract  from  the  storyline 
continuity.  The  solution  was  to  place  the 
specimens  behind  a  large  expanse  of 
glass  that  did  not  determine  or  in  any 
way  interfere  with  the  way  they  were 
arranged  and  displayed  and  that  did 
not  seem  to  be  a  barrier  to  viewers. 

Photographs  were  taken  of 
supplementary  items,  graphic  panels 
were  prepared,  and  hundreds  of  35  mm. 
color  transparencies  were  edited. 
Eventually  the  specimens  to  be  used 
were  removed  from  various  halls  in  the 
Museum  and  placed  in  their  new 
temporary  setting  in  Hall  25. 

The  composite  result  drew  upon  all  the 
new  forms  of  visual  communication 
technique,  which  newspapers, 
magazines,  television,  and  even 
packaging  have,  in  fact,  pioneered  and 
learned  to  exploit  for  the  purpose  of 
mass  selling  to  a  mass  society.  Our 
purpose  is  to  transmit  information  by 
means  of  every  appropriate  visual  mode 
simultaneously,  and  to  do  it  simply, 
clearly,  and  fast.  This  purpose  can  be 
achieved  only  by  design,  good 
"information  design" — which  doesn't 
just  happen  by  accident.  Sure  formulas, 
smart  gimmicks,  short-lived  fads  like 
"Cadillac  tail  fins"  or  novelty  type  faces 
have  no  place.  The  principles  of 
information  design  being  developed 
today  are  a  response  to  a  need  of 
modern  society.  They  aim  always  and 
above  all  for  comprehension. 

When  the  final  installation  of  Color  in 
Nature  was  completed,  the  scientific 
staff  had  logged  over  500  man-hours 
and  the  Exhibition  Department  over 
2,000  man-hours.  Design  is  expensive, 
but  we  know  now  that  it  is  necessary. 

Lothar  P.  Witteborg  is  chairman  of  the 
Exhibition  Department  at  Field  Museum . 

Bulletin     April  1971 


"t-  V  n- 

ILL  ! 



By  Helen  Leavitt.  New  York,  Ballantine 
Books,  1971.  311  pp.  $.95 

There  can  be  few  arguments  with  any  of 
the  statements  of  Helen  Leavitt  in 
Superhighway — Superhoax.  or  with  the  facts 
she  draws  upon  to  support  them.  Urban 
transportation,  she  says,  is  sinking  into  a 
morass  of  higher  public  transportation  costs, 
lower  quality  and  service,  and  greater 
street  and  highway  congestion.  In  1907, 
horse  and  buggy  travel  in  New  York  City 
averaged  11.5  mph;  in  1966,  motor  vehicle 
travel  averaged  8.5  mph. 

Homes  and  businesses  continue  to  be 
paved  over  with  expressways,  interchanges, 
and  parking  lots.  A  1966  relocation  study 
through  the  Federal  Highway  Act  predicted 
that  between  1967  and  1970,  146,950 
additional  persons,  16,679  business  and 
non-profit  organizations,  and  4,890  farms 
would  be  uprooted. 

Air  pollution — 60  percent  produced  by 
internal  combustion  engines — continues  to 
rise  to  more  and  more  intolerable  levels. 
Carbon  monoxide  concentrations  commonly 
reach  peaks  in  metropolitan  rush-hour 
points  of  100  parts-per-million  and  more, 
enough  to  cause  headaches,  physiologically 
impair  vision,  and  affect  the  heart  and  lungs. 
Lead  content  in  blood  for  metropolitan 
dwellers  averages  2.5  parts-per-million  or 
one-third  the  way  to  "classical  lead 
poisoning,"  as  defined  by  the  U.S.  Public 
Health  Service.  Tests  of  traffic  policemen 
and  toll-booth  operators  in  Europe  have 
recorded  concentrations  significantly  above 
the  threshhold  level  for  lead  poisoning. 

The  "urban  sprawl"  of  parasitic  suburbs  is 
crippling  the  central  city  that  it  feeds  upon, 
by  draining  the  core  city's  lax  base  and 
sharply  decreasing  downtown  retail 
business.  More  than  60  percent  of  the  land 
in  the  central  business  district  of  the 
nation's  capital  is  devoted  currently  to  the 
moving  and  storage  of  automobiles.  The 

majority  of  this  land  is  nontaxable.  At  the 
same  time,  suburban  residents  find  that 
they  are  driving  more  and  everyone  is 
enjoying  it  less. 

Everyone  is  suffering  the  consequences  of 
noncomprehensive  urban  planning.  Charles 
Haar  of  the  U.S.  Department  of  Housing 
and  Urban  Development  is  quoted:  "It  is 
difficult  for  the  poor  central  city  resident 
without  an  automobile  to  persuade  himself 
that  a  new  superhighway  which  he  will 
not  use,  but  which  requires  him  to  pull 
up  roots  and  find  a  new  home,  is  a 
beneficial  improvement — particularly  if  the 
alternative  modes  of  transportation  he 
depends  upon,  buses  or  subways,  give 
increasingly  poorer  service  at  higher  costs  " 
And  from  Professor  Ian  McHarg, 
University  of  Pennsylvania:  ".  .  .  the 
problem  about  highways  is  [that]  we  permit 
engineers  to  have  a  profound  effect  upon 
cities  and,  in  fact,  design  them." 

What  is  the  underlying  cause  for  "highway 
planning"  of  the  cities — indeed,  of  the 
nation?  The  purpose  of  the  book  is  to 
answer  this  question  by  demonstrating  how 
an  overemphasis  of  national  economic 
priorities  on  highway  transportation  has 
loaded  the  transportation  balance  almost  to 
the  point  of  excluding  alternative  modes 
of  transportation.  "Since  1956  American 
taxpayers  have  spent  $196  billion  in 
federal,   state  and   local   taxes  on   highway 
construction.  In  the  same  period,  we  spent 
a  total  of  $33  billion  for  all  other  modes, 
including  the  Coast  Guard."  In  1956,  with 
the  passage  of  the  Highway  Act,  two  of 
the  commitments  made  were  these:  $27 
billion  for  90  percent  federal  funding  of  the 
41,000  miles  of  interstate  highway  (this 
figure  was  raised  to  $41  billion  within  two 
years);  and  establishment  of  the  Highway 
Trust  Fund  (to  expire  in  1972),  which 
funnelled  all  federal  taxes  on  motor  vehicles, 
gasoline,  and  ancillary  equipment  into  a 
special  account  "to  meet  those  obligations 
of  the  United  States  incurred  under  the 
Federal-Aid  Road  Act  attributable  to 
federal-aid  highways."  An  interlocking  web 
of  special  interest  groups  supported  this 
measure  and  have  subsequently  acted  to 
protect  the  Highway  Trust  Fund  from  any 
encroachment  by  proponents  of  other 
transportation  systems:  "auto  manufacturers, 
labor  unions,  engineers,  road  contractors, 
truckers,  steel,  rubber  and  petroleum 
producers,  busline  and  highway  officials, 
and  congressmen." 

If  any  criticism  could  be  levelled  at  Helen 
Leavitt's  book,  it  would  be  the  extent  to 
which  she  dwells  on  this  conglomerate 
"highway  lobby,"  which  she  calls  the 
■Road  Gang."  Two  complete  chapters 
(4  and  5)  and  extensive  portions  of  the  rest 
of  the  book  deal  with  this  group,  which 

emerges  as  being  far  more  extensive, 
complex,  and  interlocking  than  even  the 
highway  systems  which  it  promotes. 
Needless  to  say.  the  "Road  Gang"  is 
demonstrated  to  be  extremely  powerful. 
Senator  Tydings  of  Maryland  wrote  to  one 
of  his  complaining  constituents:   "We  must 
recognize  the  fact  that  for  all  practical 
purposes  the  industries  and  interests 
constituting  what  is  commonly  known  as 
"the  highway  lobby"  have  sufficient  political 
influence  to  prevent  any  diversion  of  the 
highway  trust  fund  before  the  completion 
of  the  present  interstate  highway  program." 

Mrs.  Leavitt  concludes  her  book  with  some 
suggestions  for  positive  action.  She 
recommends  banning  automobiles  from 
certain  core-city  areas;   instituting 
tax-supported  free  public  transportation; 
applying  the  full  resources  of  modern 
technology  to  development  of  efficient, 
quality  public  transportation;  and  levying 
tolls  on  autos  entering  the  city.  (To  elaborate 
on  the  last,  I  suggest  a  toll  system  which 
computes  charges  in  direct  proportion  to 
horsepower,  or  in  inverse  proportion  to  the 
number  of  passengers,  or  both.) 

All  of  these  suggestions  follow  from  the 
observation  that  the  transportation  system 
creates  its  own  demand  much  more  than  the 
demand  creates  the  system.  The  consumer 
uses  what  is  available,  particularly  when 
he  has  no  practicable  choice. 

The  book  Superhighway — Superhoax  is  a 
persuasive  outgrowth  of  Helen  Leavitt's 
effective  actions  in  Washington.  DC.  to  stop 
construction  of  a  freeway  destined  to 
replace  her  home  and  neighborhood.  Mrs. 
Leavitt  has  mobilized  her  data  with  great 
ability  as  well  as  conviction. 

by  Jonathan  Taylor,  coordinator  of  N.W. 
Harris  Extension,   Department  of  Education, 
Fietd  Museum. 


Bulletin     April   1971 

Large  Piece  of  Rare  Meteorite  Found 

Museum  Acquires  Rare  Shell 

Acquisition  of  a  perfect  specimen  of  Conus 
gloriamaris.  the  most  famous  sea  sfieil  and 
one  of  the  world's  rarest,  was  made  possible 
recently  through  the  generosity  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Arthur  Moulding. 

Although  first  described  in  1777  and 
represented  by  about  25  specimens  in 
Europe  prior  to  1800,  only  four  additional 
specimens  were  found  between  1800  and 

Since  1957,  living  specimens  have  been 
collected  in  waters  off  the  Philippines,  the 
Bismarck  Archipelago  and  the  Solomon 

This  beautiful  shell,  approximately  four 
inches  long,  will  be  on  display  in  the  South 
Lounge  May  17  through  July  11. 

Tours  to  Scandinavia,  India  and 
Ceylon,  Africa 

Field  Museum's  Worldwide  Natural  History 
Tours  will  visit  Scandinavia,  June  8-July  2, 
India  and  Ceylon  in  October,  and  in  1972 
two  tour  groups  will  visit  Africa,  January  14- 
February  6,  and  February  11 -March  5. 

A  slide  lecture  on  the  India  and  Ceylon  tour 
will  be  given  by  Tours  Chief  Phil  Clark  at 
8  p.m.  on  Friday,  June  4  in  the  Field 
Museum  lecture  hall.  Mr.  Clark  is  presently 
in  India  preparing  the  tour. 

The  African  tours  will  visit  Nigeria,  Cameroun 
(featuring  the  Sultanate  of  Bamoun),  and 
Kenya.  In  Kenya,  the  January  group  will 
visit  Tsavo,  Lake  Nakuru,  and  Nairobi  game 
reserves.  The  February  group  will  visit 
Samburu,  Lake  Nakuru,  and  Nairobi  game 

Information  on  the  tours  may  be  obtained 
by  writing  Natural  History  Tours,  Field 
Museum,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore 
Drive,  Chicago  60605,  or  by  telephoning 
922-9410  and  asking  for  the  Natural  History 
Tours  office. 

Dr.  Edward  J.  Olsen.  curator  of  mineralogy 
in  the  Museum's  Department  ol  Geology, 
holds  a  103  pound  mass  ol  a  rare  iron 
meteorite  called  Campo  del  Cielo.  The 
meteorite  is  4  billion,  550  million  years  old 
and  originally  weighed  about  15  tons.  Pieces 
ranging  from  a  tew  pounds  up  to  a  tew 
tons  in  weight  have  been  lound  scattered 
over  several  square  miles  in  the  Gran 
Chaco  Region  ol  Argentina.  The  meteorite 
was  first  found  in  the  year  1576  by  Spanish 
explorers.  This  particular  piece,  discovered 
by  Dr.  T.  Bunch  of  NASA's  research 
lacility  at  Ames  Research  Center, 
Moflett  Field,  California,  is  a  new  find. 
Most  ol  the  larger  pieces  ol  this  meteorite 
were  found  long  ago.  Dr.  Bunch  and 
Dr.  Olsen  have  been  working  together  tor 
nearly  five  years  on  rare  iron  meteorites  of 
this  type. 

This  piece,  shipped  from  Argentina  by  Dr. 
Bunch,  has  been  cut  into  several  slices  by 
International  Harvester  Co.  in  Hinsdale. 
Dr.  Olsen  sought  the  aid  of  International 
Harvester  because  their  heavy  industrial 
shops  in  Hinsdale  had  metal-cutting  saws 
capable  ol  slicing  such  large  pieces  of  iron. 
The  purpose  of  slicing  is  to  provide 
specimens   lor   research   and  exhibit. 

Society  for  Economic  Botany  Meeting 

The  Society  for  Economic  Botany  will  hold 
its  annual  meeting  and  symposium  in  the 
Field  Museum  lecture  hall  April  25-28. 
Dr.  Louis  O,  Williams,  chairman  of  the 
Department  of  Botany  and  a  founding 
member  of  the  international  organization,  is 
coordinator  of  the  meeting. 

The  members  of  The  Society  for  Economic 
Botany  are  interested  in  all  aspects  of  man's 

uses  of  plants — for  foods,  for  drugs,  and  for 
industrial  purposes. 

All  meetings  of  the  Society  will  be  held  in 
Field  Museum  with  the  exception  of  the  final 
meeting  which  will  be  held  at  Morton 
Arboretum  on  April  28.  A  symposium 
entitled  "Search  for  and  Introduction  of 
Economic  Plants,"  to  be  participated  in  by 
eleven  well  known  plant  scientists,  will  be 
held  on  April  27.  The  meetings  on  April  26 
and  28  will  be  given  over  to  research  papers 
on  many  aspects  of  useful  plants.  Mr.  M.  J. 
Wells  of  the  Botanical  Research  Institute. 
Republic  of  South  Africa  is  the  member 
coming  the  greatest  distance  to  participate. 
He  will  give  a  paper  on  "Economic  Botany 
in  South  America." 

Famous  Potters  of  San  lldefonso 
Honored  at  Luncheon 

E.  Leiand  Webber,  director  ol  Field  Museum, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Joseph  F.  Estes,  and  Popovi 
Da  (top)  and  Mrs.  Maria  Martinez  and 
Mrs.  Clara  Montoya  (front)  photographed  at  a 
recent  luncheon  at  the  Museum  honoring 
Mrs.  Martinez  and  her  son,  Mr.  Da. 

More  than  fifty  years  ago,  Mrs.  Martinez  and 
her  husband,  Julian,  began  experiments 
that  resulted  in  the  renaissance  ot  pottery 
making  at  San  lldefonso  Pueblo  in 
New  Mexico.  Today,  she  and  her  son 
continue  to  make  the  pottery  much  as 
their  ancestors  did. 

In  introducing  the  lamous  potters  ot  San 
lldelonso.  Dr.  Donald  Collier,  curator  ot 
Middle  and  South  American  Archaeology 
and  Ethnology,  said  "They  have  changed 
and  elevated  traditional  Indian  technique  and 
style,  and  have  created  a  new  style  which 
is  yet  truly  Indian.  Their  achievement 
epitomizes  the  history  of  the  Pueblo  peoples 
and  cultures  in  this  century  and  during  the 
past  400  years  " 

Bulletin     April  1971 



To  the  editor: 

I  thought  that  matter  of  the  wild  horses  was 
under  control,  and  I  was  very  distressed 
to  read  this  article  about  them  in  the 
February  Bulletin.  What  can  one  do  to  help 
the  brave  Mrs.  Velma  Johnston? 

Karl  Menninger,  M.D. 

Mrs.  Velma  Johnston  replies: 

Thank  you  for  your  interest  and  concern  in 
behalf  of  the  wild  horses  of  America. 

There  are  now  so  many  protective  bills 
concerning  wild  horses  being  introduced  in 
Congress,  there  is  little  that  can  be  done  to 
further  the  cause  during  this  interim 
between  introduction  and  committee 

As  soon  as  a  decision  is  made  concerning 
which  bills  the  International  Society  for 
the  Protection  of  Mustangs  and  Burros 
(ISPMB)  will  support,  bill  numbers  are 
designated,  and  the  names  obtained  of 
committees  to  which  the  bills  are  assigned, 
a  directive  will  be  sent  out  informing  you 
of  the  action  to  be  taken. 

I  would  suggest  that  you  see  the  January 
1971   issue  of  National  Geographic  and,  if 
possible,  read  the  book.  Mustang,  Wild 
Spirit  of  the  West,   by  Marguerite  Henry. 
Miss  Hope  Ryden  has  also  written  a  fine 
book  on  the  entire  subject — America's 
Last  Wild  Horses. 

Velma  B.  Johnston 
President,  ISPMB 

Editor's  note: 

For  our  readers  who  may  not  be  aware  of  the 
purpose  and  activities  of  the  International 
Society  for  the  Protection  of  Mustangs  and 
Burros  we  reprint  the  following  from  a 
recent  ISPMB  news  bulletin: 

ISPMB  is  a  non-profit  organization  having 
as  its  objective  the  preservation  and 

protection  of  the  wild  horses  and  burros.  It  is 
devoted  to  the  creation  and  encouragement 
of  an  awareness  among  the  people  of  the 
need  for  such  protection  and  preservation. 

The  first  Wild  Horse  Refuge  was  set  up  in 
Nevada  where  there  are  about  200  head 
of  wild  horses  on  this  435,000-acre  Refuge. 
There  is  also  a  Wild  Burro  Refuge  in 
Inyo  County  in  California  of  3,600,000  acres. 
In  September  of  1968  the  newest  Wild 
Horse  and  Wildlife  Range,  lying  along  the 
Montana-Wyoming  boarder,  was  designated 
by  the  Secretary  of  the  Interior.  None  of 
these  "just  happened,"  but  were  established 
in  response  to  the  pleas  of  thousands  of 
individuals  throughout  the  nation.  There 
must  be  more  refuges  set  up  in  our  Western 
States  and  laws  enacted  to  provide  humane 
and  wise  control  of  these  wild  horses 
and  burros  that  they  may  receive  the 
protection  they  so  richly  deserve — a  legacy 
for  future  generations  to  admire  as  the 
generations  before  them  have  done. 

Additional  information  about  ISPMB  may  be 
obtained  by  writing  to  Mrs.  Velma  B. 
Johnston,  president  of  ISPMB,  at 
140  Greenstone  Drive,  Reno,  Nevada  89502 

To  the  editor: 

Congratulations  to  Patricia  M.  Williams  on 
her  article  on  the  wild  horses  in  the  February 
Bulletin.  I  have  been  in  correspondence 
with  Hope  Ryden  after  her  Today  show. 

I  like  the  new  format  of  the  Bulletin. 

Henry  Field 

Department  of  Anthropology 

Harvard  University 

To  the  editor: 

Having  seen  occasional  copies  of  your 
magazine  during  the  past  few  years,  I  was 
greatly  impressed,  recently,  by  the  new 
format  and  by  what  seemed  to  be  so  much 
more  interesting,  timely  articles.  It  is  a 
great  improvement,  and  as  a  high  school 
teacher  I  would  be  interested  in  how  a 
school  subscription  may  be  obtained. 

Michael  E.  Goldwasser 
Palfrey  Street  School 
Watertown,  Mass. 

Editor's  note: 

A  school  subscription  to  the  Bulletin  may  be 
obtained  by  writing  to  Publications  Office, 
Field  Museum  of  Natural  History, 
Roosevelt  Rd.  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago, 
III.  60605.  Subscription  rate  for  schools 
is  $3  a  year. 

JUNE  8  -  JULY  2,  1971 

$2,405  (INCLUDES  A  $500 

Fjords,  outdoor  museums,  gardens, 
wildflowers,  birds,  archaeological  sites, 
architecture,  design,  Linnaeus'  gardens, 
great  cathedrals,  historic  palaces, 
opera,  midnight  sun  in  Lappland, 
reindeer,  Bergen,  Oslo,  Helsinki,  Tapiola, 
Lake  Inari.  Stockholm,  Gotland  Island, 
Uppsala,  Gothenburg,  Kattegat, 
Halsingborg,  Norrviken,  Sofiero, 
Bosjokloster,  Lund,  Helsinfors,  Copenfiagen. 





Bulletin     April  1971 



9  a.m.  to  5  p.m.  Saturday-Thursday 
9  a.m.  to  9  p.m.  Friday 

The  Museum  Library  is  open  9  a.m.  to 
4;30  p.m.  Monday  through  Friday 


Color  In  Nature,  an  exhibit  of  broad  scope, 
explores  the  nature  and  variety  of  color  in 
the  physical  and  living  world  around  us, 
and  how  it  functions  in  plants  and  animals 
in  their  struggle  for  survival,  reproduction, 
and  evolution.  Using  specimens  from  the 
Museum's  huge  collections,  it  focuses  on 
the  many  roles  of  color,  as  in  mimicry, 
camouflage,  warning,  sexual  recognition 
and  selection,  energy  channeling,  and 
vitamin  production.  Hall  25. 

John  James  Audubon**  elephant  folio, 
The  Birds  of  America,  on  display  in  the 
North  Lounge,  with  a  different  plate  featured 
each  day. 

75th  Anniversary  Exhibit:  A  Sense  of 
Wonder,  a  Sense  of  History,  A  Sense  of 
Discovery,  continues  indefinitely.  Field 
Museum's  past  and  present,  and  some  of 
its  current  research  projects  are  presented 
in  a  new  and  exciting  way.  Hall  3. 

"To  See  or  Not  to  See,"  Spring  Journey  for 
Children,  helps  them  learn  about  the 
diversity  of  colors  and  color  patterns  of 
selected  animals,  as  well  as  the  advantages 
of  mimicry  and  pigmentation  changes,  with 
the  aid  of  a  questionnaire.  All  youngsters 
who  can  read  and  write  may  participate  in 

the  free  program.  Journey  sheets  are 
available  at  Museum  entrances.  Through 
May  31 . 

A  rare,  wild  albino  minic,  in  a  special 
display  in  the  South  Lounge.  This  almost 
adult  female  specimen  is  the  gift  of  Terry  L 
Perry  of  Johnston,  Iowa,  who  captured  it 
about  16  months  ago.  Through  May  16. 


The  Afro-American  Style,  From  the  Design 
Works  of  Bedford-Stuyvesant,  an  exhibit  of 
hand-printed  textiles  blending  classical 
African  motifs  and  contemporary  design. 
The  original  Benin  art  from  Field  Museum's 
collection,  which  inspired  many  of  these 
designs,  is  shown  in  conjunction  with  the 
textiles.  Through  September  12.  Hall  9. 


Portrait  of  the  Chippewa,  a  collection  of 
100  photographs  edited  from  over  5,000 
negatives  taken  on  the  Red  Lake  Indian 
reservation  in  Northern  Minnesota.  The 
exhibit  portrays  the  Chippewa  in  his  culture 
and  shows  him  in  relation  to  his  family  and 
his  way  of  life.  Through  May  15.  South 

Free  Spring  Children's  Programs  at  10:30 

a.m.,  James  Simpson  Theatre 

April  17 

Color  in  Nature  is  the  theme  of  the 
program,  which  includes  a  film  journey  to 
the  wilderness  country  of  the  American  West 
to  observe  the  life  and  habits  of  the  elk, 
grizzly  bear,  and  mountain  sheep. 

April  24 

Museum  Traveler  Day,  with  presentation  of 
awards  to  youngsters  participating  in  the 
Journey  program.  A  color  motion  picture. 

"The  Eruption  of  Kilauea,"  a  dramatic 
documentary  of  the  active  Hawaiian  volcano, 

Spring  Rim-Lecture  Series,  presented  at 
2:30  p.m.,  James  Simpson  Theatre 

April  17 

"The  Right  to  Live,"  narrated  by  C.  P 
Lyons.  A  film  using  the  great  outdoors  and 
animals  in  their  natural  environment  as 
subject  matter,  to  stress  the  need  for  the 
preservation  of  wildlife  and  natural 

April  24 

"Adriatic  Italy,"  narrated  by  Al  Wolff. 

A  motion  picture  journey  to  the  little  known 

scenic  East  Coast  from  Brindisi  to  Trieste, 

with  stops  at  Rome,  Venice  and  Florence. 


"Portraits  of  IMan,"  a  group  of  sculptures 
by  Malvina  Hoffman,  permanently  reinstalled 
in  the  corridors  overlooking  Stanley  Field 
Hall  and  in  the  North  and  South  Lounges 
beginning  May  7.  These  bronze  and  stone 
sculptures  of  people  from  various  parts  of 
the  world  are  some  of  the  finest 
representations  of  Malvina  Hoffman's  work 
in  Field  Museum's  collection. 

A  Specimen  of  the  Conus  gloriamarls,  the 

most  famous  sea  shell  and  one  of  the 
world's  rarest,  shown  in  the  South  Lounge 
May  17  through  July  11.  Acquisition  of  this 
perfect  specimen  was  made  possible 
through  the  generosity  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Arthur  Moulding. 

Volume  42,  Number  5  May  1971 

Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 


V      V 

J     ^ 





Volume  42,  Number  5 
May  1971 

Cover:  Color  in  living  forms  reveals  as  often 
as  it  conceals.   Tfie  ultimate  end  is  the 
same — perpetuation  of  tfie  species. 

2   Color  in  Flowers 

William  C.  Burger  and  Ronald  Liesner 

why  many  plants  Invest  a  large  amount  of  their  energy  in  flowers 

and  color 

5  The  Great  Frigate  Bird 

Melvin  A.  Traylor 

memories  of  a  flamboyant  GalSpagos  pirate 

6  Color  in  Animals 

Rupert  L.  Wenzel  and  Solomon  A.  Smitti 
its  many  functions  in  patterns  for  survival 

1 1    High  Hopes  to  Fallen  Dreams 

Alan  Solem 

flow  two  rare  and  valuable  shells  differ  from  several  similar  but 

common  species 

14    Color  in  the  Non-biological  World 

Edward  J.  Olsen 

color  is  in  the  physical  nature  of  light  as  well  as  in  the  eye  of  the 


Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 

Director,  E.  Leiand  Webber 

Editor  Joyce  Zibro;  Associate  Editor  Elizabeth  Munger;  Staff  Writer  Madge  Jacobs;  Production  Russ  Beclcer;  Photography  John  Bayalis, 
Fred  Huysmans. 

The  Bulletin  is  published  monthly  by  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605.  Subscrip- 
tions: $9  a  year;  S3  a  year  for  schools.  Members  of  the  Museum  subscribe  through  Museum  membership.  Opinions  expressed  by  authors 
are  their  own  and  do  not  necessarily  reflect  the  policy  of  Field  Museum.  Unsolicited  manuscripts  are  welcome.  Cover  printed  by  Field  Museum 
Press.  Application  to  mail  at  second-class  postage  rates  is  pending  at  Chicago,  Illinois.  Postmaster:  Please  send  form  3579  to  Field  Museum 
of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lal<e  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605. 

Bulletin     May  1971 

Perhaps  we  should  explore  the  why  of 
flowers  before  we  examine  flower  color. 
Plants  without  flowers,  such  as  ferns 
and  mosses,  have  swimming  sperm. 
The  sperm  must  swim  through  water 
or  across  a  surface  film  of  water  to 
achieve  fertilization.  Part  of  the  life 
cycle  of  these  plants  is  thus  tied  to  the 
presence  of  water  or  wet  conditions. 
These  plants  cannot  reproduce  sexually 
in  places  that  aren't  moist  for  at  least 
a  short  period  of  time. 

Flowers  were  invented  as  part  of  a 
grand  new  strategy  for  reproduction 
which  made  water  no  longer  necessary 
for  fertilization.  That  strategy  was 
fertilization  by  pollen.  It  is  the  function 
of  flowers  to  produce  and  receive 
pollen.  Pollen  grains  arriving  at  or  near 
the  female  organs  grow  toward  their 
goal,  fertilization. 

But  now  there  is  the  problem  of 
transportation.  If  the  pollen  can't  swim, 
who  will  carry  it?  There  are  two 
obvious  solutions:  the  wind  and  the 

Plants  like  oak  trees  and  grasses  and 
many  others  have  chosen  the  wind. 
This  is  a  chancy  business,  a  statistical 
problem:  how  to  make  sure  the  pollen 
will  reach  its  proper  destination. 
Invariably  these  plants  produce  a  lot 
of  pollen.  Almost  as  invariably,  the 
flowers  of  wind-pollinated  plants  are 
nothing  worth  admiring.  Their  flowers 
are  usually  small  and  inconspicuous. 
But  that  makes  sense — the  wind  can't 
see.  These  plants  are  investing  in 
pollen,  not  makeup.  We  want  to  talk 
about  those  plants  that  have  invested 
in  color  to  insure  their  pollination. 
These  are  the  plants  that  have  chosen 
the  wildlife. 




It  takes  more  than  mere  color  to  insure 
that  animals  will  transport  pollen  from 
flower  to  flower.  The  main  reward  for 
these  animals  is  usually  sweet  nectar 
or  nutritious  pollen;  color  and  odor  are 
the  signals  that  tell  them  where  it's  at. 
Color,  odor,  and  nectar  are  expensive, 
but  this  is  the  price  the  plant  must  pay 
for  the  service  of  pollination.  The 
currency  of  living  things  is  energy  and 
it  requires  a  lot  of  energy  to  make 
colorful  petals,  attractive  aromas,  and 
sweet  nectar.  We  can  think  of  a  living 
thing  as  having  two  energy  budgets: 
one  to  keep  itself  alive  and  the  other 
to  reproduce  and  keep  the  species 
alive.  Flowers,  fruits,  and  seeds  are  the 
investments  a  plant  must  make  to  keep 
its  particular  species  going. 

But  why  all  the  trouble  of  flowers  and 
pollination?  Why  not  just  have  small 
parts  that  could  form  new  plants? 
Wouldn't  it  be  simpler  for  an  organism 
to  produce  young  all  by  itself?  Many 
plants  can  produce  new  plants  by 
themselves.  Why  bother  with  pollination 
between  distant  plants,  which  is  one  of 
the  major  results  of  having  colorful 
flowers?  If  there  were  no  advantage, 
all  this  energy  spent  on  fancy  flowers 
would  be  a  waste.  There  does  seem  to 
be  an  advantage.  This  advantage  is  a 
more  variable  population  resulting  from 
the  mixture  of  hereditary  material. 

The  more  variable  a  population,  the 
greater  is  its  potential  for  improved 
adaptability  to  its  environment  and  its 
chance  of  surviving  if  the  environment 
changes  or  catastrophe  strikes. 
Pollination  between  distant  plants 
results  in  more  variable  offspring.  This 
is  what  flowers  are  for. 

We  explored  the  "why"  of  flowers; 
let's  now  take  a  look  at  the  "how"  of 
color.  We  all  know  that  white  (and 
white  light)  is  a  mixture  of  all  the 

William  C.  Burger  and  Ronald  Liesner 

colors  and  that  the  absence  of  color 
(or  of  light)  is  black.  We  see  color 
when  we  see  only  part  of  the  light 
spectrum.  Color  can  be  produced 
physically,  as  when  a  prism  refracts  a 
beam  of  sunlight  and  disperses  it  into 
its  components,  from  blue  through 
green  and  yellow  to  red.  Many  things 
can  break  up  white  light  similarly,  such 
as  water  droplets  making  a  rainbow, 
atmospheric  particles  making  the  sky 
look  blue,  or  the  scales  of  some  of  the 
most  spectacular  butterflies.  But  the 
color  of  flowers  is  not  this  type  of 
"physical"  or  structural  color.  Flowers 
usually  produce  color  with  pigments. 
Pigments  are  compounds  that  absorb 
some  part  of  the  spectrum;  it  is  by 
reflecting  back  the  rest  that  they 
produce  their  "color."  Thus,  a 
compound  that  absorbs  blue,  red,  and 
yellow  will  look  green.  One  that  absorbs 
everything  but  red  will  look  red. 
Pigments  of  many  kinds  are  responsible 
for  the  colors  of  flowers. 

The  how  of  color  also  requires 
understanding  how  color  is  seen. 
People  with  good  color  vision  can 
distinguish  between  hundreds  of  colors, 
but  experiments  with  honeybees 
indicate  that  they  can  see  only  about 
four  distinct  colors.  Moreover,  the 
honeybee  can  see  part  of  the  spectrum 
that  is  not  visible  to  us.  How  can  we 
discuss  what  the  bee  sees  when  its 
vision  is  so  different  in  both  sensitivity 
and  ability  to  discriminate?  How  can 
we  understand  the  effect  of  flower 
color  on  animals  whose  vision  differs 
so  much  from  our  own?  Perhaps  the 
best  way  to  approach  the  problem  is 
to  think  in  terms  of  contrast.  After  all, 
the  flower  has  a  simple  message: 
"Here  I  am."  The  prime  function  of 

Photo:  Looking  deep  into  the  flower  of  a  common 
hollyhock.  Althaea  rosea,  which  belongs  to  the 
family  that  also  includes  cotton,  okra,  hibiscus,  and 
the  mallows.  Photo  by  William  C.  Burger. 

Bulletin     May  1971 

The  lower  petal  of  the  iris  provides  a 
broad  landing  field  and  distinct  lines  that 
guide  the  bee  to  nectar. 

flower  color  is  to  stand  out  in  bold 
contrast  against  its  surroundings. 

The  most  contrasting  image  against  a 
background  of  mixed  browns  and 
greens  may  be  pure  wliite.  The  white 
of  flowers  is  due  to  the  air  spaces 
within  cells  rather  than  to  a  white 
pigment.  This  white  is  formed  in  the 
same  way  as  the  white  of  snow  and 
foam:  the  air  cells  scatter  and  reflect 
the  light  falling  on  them.  White  and  the 
very  pale  colors  are  characteristic  of 
flowers  pollinated  by  moths  at  dusk 
and  dawn.  These  light  colors  are  the 
most  efficient  in  reflecting  the  dim  light. 
Bees  are  attracted  to  white  flowers,  but 
only  if  the  ultraviolet  wavelengths  are 
not  reflected.  Similarly,  bees  can  be 
taught  to  visit  a  white  disc,  but  only  if 
that  disc  does  not  reflect  the  ultraviolet. 

The  bees  distinguish  between  white 
that  includes  ultraviolet  and  white  that 
does  not — something  we  cannot  do. 

Yellow  and  orange  are  apparently  very 
attractive  to  a  wide  range  of  insects. 
They  are  common  flower  colors.  Our 
goldenrods,  dandelions,  and  butterfly 
weeds  can  often  be  seen  with  visiting 
bees,  wasps,  hover  flies,  and  even  a 
few  beetles. 

Bees  have  been  shown  to  be  blind  to 
red.  Nevertheless,  the  red  poppy  of 
Europe  and  our  gardens  is  often  visited 
by  honeybees.  This  apparent 
contradiction  is  explained  by  the  fact 
that  the  red  poppy  also  reflects 
ultraviolet  light.  Again,  the  bee 
distinguishes  a  difference  that  we 
cannot  see. 

Red  flowers,  especially  those  with 
narrow  tubes,  are  regularly  visited  by 
birds.  These  red  flowers  apparently 
stand  out  in  bold  contrast  to  the 
background  greens  for  the  birds  as 
they  do  for  us.  How  different  from 
Rover,  who  has  a  lot  more  trouble 
fetching  a  red  ball  in  the  green  grass 
than  a  blue  one.  Getting  back  to 
flowers,  typically  bird-pollinated  flowers 
lack  fragrance.  This  is  not  surprising 
since  birds  have  a  very  poor  sense  of 
smell  (differing  again  from  Rover). 

Quite  a  number  of  flowers  pollinated 
by  flies  and  beetles  and  having  very 
disagreeable  odors  (to  us)  are  very 
dark  brown  or  deep  red-purple.  Early 
experiments  indicated  that  flies  were 
not  attracted  to  these  colors.  But  later 
work  showed  that  flies  which  normally 
prefer  yellow  and  orange  shift  their 
preference  to  brown  and  purple  when 
exposed  to  the  odors  of  decay.  The 
insects  require  two  signals  in  this 
instance:  sight  and  odor.  Odors  play 
an  important  role  in  many  other 
flowers,  and  it  is  often  difficult  to 
distinguish  which  clues  the  visitor  has 

used  to  find  a  particular  flower.  A 
straight  flight  path  to  the  flower 
indicates  that  the  visitor  has  used 
vision,  but  a  crooked  flight  into  the 
wind  indicates  that  aroma  is  the  clue. 

Once  the  insect  has  found  the  flower, 
it  may  receive  further  visual  cues. 
Many  bee-pollinated  flowers  have 
stripes  or  patches  of  contrasting  color, 
known  as  honey-guides.  These  help  the 
insect  find  the  nectar.  Experiments 
have  shown  that  bees  usually  land  on 
the  edge  of  an  evenly  colored  area 
and  move  in  from  the  edge,  even  if 
food  is  always  in  the  center.  However, 
when  stripes  or  patches  of  contrasting 
color  are  in  or  point  to  the  center  of 
the  area,  the  bee  lands  directly  on  the 
center.  Thus,  the  white  petals  (called 
rays)  of  the  daisy  serve  to  center  the 
yellow  disc.  Many  flowers  have  special 
lines  or  colors  that  indicate  the  nectar- 
producing  areas;  these  are  the  guide 
lines  and  target  colors. 

The  next  time  you  see  a  pretty  flower 
you  might  ponder  its  meaning.  Not  the 
poetic  purpose  of  song  and  fable,  but 
the  business  of  enticing  animals  to  help 
it  in  that  universal  biological  goal: 

Dr.  William  C.  Burger  is  associate  curator 
ot  vascular  plants  in  the  Department  of 
Botany  at  Field  Museum.   Ronald  Liesner 
is  herbarium  assistant. 

Bulletin     May  1971 

These  courting  Great  Frigate  Birds 
turn  back  ttie  clock  thirty  years  to 
two  exciting  days  spent  on  Tower 
Island  in  the  Galapagos,  when  I  saw 
this  magnificent  pirate  for  the  first  time. 
As  our  ship  approached  the  cove  at 
the  head  of  Darwin  Bay,  we  were 
struck  by  the  numerous  bright  red 
spots  like  flowers  scattered  through  the 
brush.  When  we  landed  we  could  see 
that  each  splash  of  color  was  the 
throat  pouch  of  a  courting  male  frigate 
bird.  The  majority  were  alone,  sitting  on 
a  nest  to  guard  it  from  rapacious 
neighbors,  but  occasional  ones  had 
their  mates  beside  them.  Some  pairs 
sat  quietly,  others  fenced  with  their 
bills  and  croaked  love  songs,  and 
recently  reunited  pairs  were,  in  William 
Beebe's  immortal  words,  "going  through 
various  forms  of  dying  ecstasies." 

The  bright  red  pouch  of  the  male  is 
strictly  a  courtship  ornament,  worn 
night  and  day  during  mating,  but  folded 
up  and  tucked  away  when  the  trials  of 

raising  a  family  begin.  A  male  with  a 
brilliant  pouch  is  almost  invariably  on 
an  empty  nest,  while  the  subdued 
ones,  with  shriveled  pouch,  are 
incubating  an  egg. 

When  incubating,  the  frigate  bird  is 
comparatively  unimpressive.  Being 
primarily  an  aerial  machine,  its  legs 
are  short  and  its  feet  weak,  good  only 
for  perching.  If  forced  to  move  about, 
it  hops  and  flops  and  appears 
singularly  inept.  However,  as  soon  as  it 
lifts  its  wings  and  rises  from  the  nest, 
the  frigate  becomes  a  new  being,  the 
absolute  master  of  the  air.  No  other 
bird  combines  such  ability  to  soar  for 
hours  on  motionless  wings  with  such 
speed  and  agility.  Its  flight  is  deceptive, 
for  the  slow  wing  beats  give  no  hint  of 
great  speed.  Only  when  the  frigate 
swoops  down  to  catch  a  flying  fish  in 
the  air  does  one  realize  its  power  and 

The  frigate,  or  man-o-war,  earned  its 
name  from  its  habit  of  pirating  food 


Melvin  A.  Traylor 

Courtship  ot  Great  Frigate  Bird,  by  Grant  Halst, 
Rochester,  New  York,  selected  as  best  print  in  the 
26th  Chicago  International  Exhibit  o(  Nature 

from  other  birds.  At  Tower  Island  the 
victims  were  usually  the  boobies  that 
shared  the  rookery.  When  the  boobies 
had  young  in  the  nest,  they  would  feed 
well  out  to  sea  and  return  only  when 
their  crops  were  full.  Then  they  had  to 
run  the  gauntlet  of  the  frigate  birds 
soaring  high  above  the  island,  waiting 
for  them.  Although  to  us  the  boobies' 
flight  seemed  fast,  it  was  no  match  for 
the  speed  of  the  men-o-war.  The 
frigates  would  dive-bomb  and  harass 
the  boobies,  even  snatching  them  by 
wing  or  tail  tip  and  flipping  them  over 
to  make  them  disgorge  part  of  their 
meal,  which  a  frigate  would  seize 
triumphantly  in  the  air.  Not  that  it  could 
necessarily  enjoy  its  loot,  for  other 
frigates  would  chase  the  pirate  in  turn, 
and  a  fish  might  change  beaks  three 
or  four  times  before  a  lucky  thief 
succeeded  in  swallowing  it. 

Melvin  A.  Traylor  is  associate  curator  of 
birds  in  the  Department  of  Zoology  at 
Field  l^useum. 

Bulletin     May  1971 




Rupert  L.  Wenzel  and 
Solomon  A.  Smith 

Bulletin     May  1971 

The  glorious  spectrum  of  a  rainbow,  the 
flaming  colors  of  a  fall  landscape,  the 
softly  sensuous  hues  of  the  Grand 
Canyon,  the  dazzling  blue  of  a  Morpho 
butterfly;  all  evoke  a  variety  of 
emotional  responses  in  man — wonder, 
surprise,  joy.  They  may  even  give  him 
pause  to  reflect  on  their  meaning,  and 
on  his  own  place  in  the  universe. 

Both  primitive  and  civilized  people  have 
used  colors  in  many  ways — to  identify 
group,  to  symbolize  status,  to  present 
an  awesome  visage  in  combat,  to 
conceal  soldiers  from  the  enemy,  to 
attract  the  opposite  sex,  to  enhance 
objects,  to  interpret  the  world  around 
them,  to  give  pleasure,  to  calm  the  ill. 
Interestingly,  some  of  these  uses  are 
similar  to  functions  of  color  in  nature. 

Yet,  man  is  so  conditioned  by  color, 
both  in  nature  and  culture,  that  he  tends 
to  take  it  for  granted.  Although  he 
easily  adjusts  to  the  black  and  white  or 
intermediate  grays  of  non-color 
television  and  photography,  he  may 
find  it  difficult  to  imagine  living  in  a 
world  without  color.  That  is,  unless  he 
is  blind  or  completely  color-blind,  for 
in  a  psychological  or  physiological 
sense,  color  "exists  only  in  the  eye  of 
the  beholder."  In  this  sense,  there  is  no 
color  without  color  vision,  that 
remarkable  ability  of  eye  and  brain  to 
respond  to  different  wavelengths  of 
light  by  perceiving  the  sensations  as 

Physically,  colors  are  simply  various 
wavelengths  of  that  segment  of  the 
electromagnetic  spectrum  that  is 
reflected  from  objects  and  perceived  by 
creatures  as  light.  The  physical  basis 
of  color  has  existed  since  radiant 
energy  burst  forth  in  the  universe  many 
billions  of  years  ago.  These  energy 
waves  of  colors  were  reflected  from 
the  sky,  the  waters,  and  the  rocks  and 
minerals  of  our  planet  earth  long  before 

Photos:  Top — Phylobales  bicolor  with  tadpoles  on 
its  back,  from  Cordillera,  Azul.  Peru:  body  length 
1%  inches.  Bottom — A  crab  spider  which  has  caught 
a  long-horned  beetle  by  imitating  its  buttercup 
yellow  background;  from  Marin  County,  California; 
body  length  V2  inch.  Copyright  by  Dr.  Edward  S.  Ross. 
California  Academy  of  Sciences. 

there  was  life,  and  thus  before  there 
were  any  eyes  to  sense  them. 

Some  biochemists  believe  that  ultraviolet 
light  provided  the  energy  needed  for 
life  to  originate.  Certainly  light  in  its 
colors  has  been  woven  into  the  fabric 
of  life  and  evolution  ever  since,  and  life 
as  we  know  it  would  not  otherwise  exist. 

The  earliest  animals  could  not  see.  At 
best,  some — like  protozoa,  minute 
one-celled  animals— could  only  sense 
light  and  shade.  Primitive  light  receptors 
evolved  in  some  animals,  and  later 
these  were  elaborated  into  complex 
eyes  that  could  distinguish  form  and 
tones  of  light  and  gray,  fuzzily  at  first, 
"as  through  a  glass  darkly,"  more 
sharply  in  higher  forms. 

Although  some  lower  animals  may  have 
been  sensitive  to  a  narrow  range  of 
light  wavelengths,  none  had  color 
vision  that  could  distinguish  all  the 
colors  of  the  light  spectrum. 

At  some  unknown  time  and  place,  some 
animals  first  achieved  the  ability  to 
distinguish  colors — perhaps  to  help 
them  recognize  enemies,  mates,  prey  or 
other  food.  Color  then  took  on  new 
dimensions,  even  for  plants,  which 
themselves  cannot  see.  And  natural 
selection  served  to  combine  vision, 
color,  form,  and  behavior  into  patterns 
unbelievably  well  suited  for  survival. 

But  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  assume 
that  colors  in  animals  and  plants  had  no 
significance  before  the  evolution  of 
color  vision  in  animals.  For  even  though 
no  creature  could  see  them  as 
colored,  pigments  were  present  in  many 
early  plants  and  animals.  Unlike  the 
inorganic  pigments  we  use  in  paints  and 
most  dyes,  the  pigments  of  plants  and 
animals  are  organic  chemical 
compounds.  Many  are  either  essential 
to  life  processes  of  the  organism  that 
produces  them — like  chlorophyll  in 
photosynthesis — or  are  important  in 
intermediate  stages  of  metabolism,  or 
are  waste  end-products.  Some  of  these 
may  be  deposited  in  the  shell  or  skin 
of  an  animal.  It  requires  less  energy  to 

"dump"  such  wastes  this  way  than  to 
excrete  them  through  special  organs. 

Because  of  local  differences  in 
biochemical  activity  in  the  skin,  it  is 
possible  that  such  pigments  were  often 
deposited  unevenly,  to  produce 
patterns,  Even  though  seen  as  tones  of 
gray  by  other  color-blind  animals,  these 
patterns  could  increase  an  animal's 
chance  of  surviving  and  reproducing  if 
they  helped  camouflage  it  from  an 
enemy,  or  rendered  it  easily 
recognizable  by  others  of  its  kind, 
including  potential  mates.  This  is  true 
for  many  living  animals. 

The  extent  of  color  vision  in  the  animal 
kingdom  has  not  been  sufficiently 
investigated  for  anyone  to  make  more 
than  a  few  generalizations. 
Although  the  origin  of  color  vision  is 
unknown,  it  is  clear  that  it  evolved 
more  than  once,  independently,  and 
that  its  history  is  interwoven  with  that 
of  adaptive  coloration  in  plants  and 

In  general,  animals  which  are  active  in 
the  evening  or  in  the  dark,  like  owls, 
lack  color  vision.  They  also  tend  to  be 
somberly  colored  or  mottled,  to  match 
the  backgrounds  on  which  they  rest 
during  the  day.  Moths  which  are 
chiefly  nocturnal  are  excellent 
examples  of  this,  though  day-flying 
moths  may  be  brightly  colored,  like 

Most  diurnal  birds  have  excellent  color 
vision,  much  like  that  of  humans,  but 
some  tend  to  be  more  sensitive  to  reds 
and  oranges.  Significantly,  the  flowers 
and  seeds  of  many  plants  that  depend 
upon  birds  for  pollination  or  dispersal 
are  often  red  or  orange.  So  are  the 
warning  colors  of  many  insects — like 
the  monarch  butterfly — that  may  be 
distasteful  or  dangerous  to  bird 

Little  is  known  about  color  vision  in 
reptiles  and  amphibians.  Probably  all 
tortoises  and  turtles  have  it,  and  it  is 
clear  from  inferred  evidence  that  at 
least  some  lizards  and  toads  do  too. 

Bulletin     May  1971 


Many  fish  have  excellent  color  vision, 
as  one  would  expect  from  the  bright 
colors  which  they  display. 

Interestingly,  most  mammals  appear  to 
have  poorly  developed  color  vision  or 
to  be  color-blind.  But  man  and  other 
primates,  like  the  chimpanzee,  have 
excellent  color  vision.  Their  color 
sensitivity  may  have  evolved  in  tropical 
regions  of  the  world  as  a  means  of 
recognizing  highly  colored  fruits  which 
were  important  in  their  diet  and  thus 
to  their  survival. 

Although  there  is  evidence  that  birds 
and  many  other  vertebrates  discriminate 
colors  in  much  the  same  way  humans 
do,  this  is  not  true  for  all  animals  that 
have  color  vision. 

For  example,  a  flower  that  has  pigment 
which  reflects  ultraviolet  light  may 
appear  to  man  to  be  entirely  yellow; 
but  to  a  honeybee  it  may  appear  to  be 
largely  deep  purple  with  a  narrow 
lighter  yellow  margin.  Bees  can  sense 
ultraviolet;  man  cannot.  On  the  other 
hand,  bees  are  blind  to  red,  which 
man  can  see. 

Colors  in  plants  and  animals  may  be 
either  structural  or  pigmentary,  or  a 
combination  of  the  two.  Structural 
colors  are  produced  chiefly  by 
ultra-fine  structures  which  break  up 
light  and  reflect  wavelengths  of  various 
colors — much  as  cut-glass  does.  These 
colors  may  be  iridescent,  or 
non-iridescent  like  the  dazzling  blues 
of  many  morpho  butterflies,  whose 
wings  have  been  so  commonly  used  to 
make  butterfly  trays  and  pictures.  In 
these,  the  tiny  scales  which  form  the 
"powder"  of  the  wings  have  complex 
structures  which  reflect  wavelengths  of 
blue  light  and  absorb  others. 

Pigmentary  colors  are  produced  by 
various  molecules  of  organic  pigment 
compounds  which  absorb  certain 
wavelengths  of  light  and  reflect  or 
transmit  others. 

Coloration  in  animals  plays  many  roles. 
Because  of  its  heat-absorbing  qualities, 

dark  pigment  is  important  in  heat 
regulation  in  many  cold-blooded  desert 
animals,  especially  those  that  are  active 
during  cool  hours  of  early  morning 
and  evening. 

Eumelanin  is  the  pigment  which  is 
conspicuous  in  dark-skinned  peoples. 
By  screening  out  excessive  ultraviolet 
light,  eumelanin  helps  maintain  a 
favorable  level  of  vitamin  D  production 
in  the  skin  of  people  living  in  tropical 
latitudes,  where  ultraviolet  radiation  is 
intense.  An  excess  of  the  vitamin  is 
toxic.  Conversely,  the  light  skin  of 
originally  northern  peoples  permits 
maximum  absorption  of  ultraviolet  in 
northern  latitudes,  where  the  radiation 
is  low.  Coupled  with  a  high  intake  of 
vitamin-D-rich  food,  like  fish,  this  helps 
prevent  rickets  and  other  bone 
disorders  which  result  from  a 
deficiency  of  the  vitamin. 

But  most  coloration  in  animals 
functions  either  to  conceal  them  or 
make  them  conspicuous. 
Conspicuous  coloration  tells  something 
about  an  animal  to  other  animals.  In 
other  words,  it  is  a  form  of 
communication — between  prey  and 
predator,  rival  males,  opposite  sexes, 
or  other  members  of  the  same  species, 
including  parent  and  offspring. 

Warning  coloration  may  tell  a  predator 
that  a  creature  possesses  bad  taste  or 
smell,  a  sting,  or  a  poison,  like  the 
scarlet  tree  frog  Phylobates  bicolor, 
whose  bright  color  advertises  the  fact 
that  it  is  poisonous  when  eaten.  The 
orange-reds  of  ladybird  beetles  and 
milkweed  bugs  advertise  their 
distasteful  qualities. 

Animals  quickly  learn  to  avoid  what  is 
unpleasant,  through  tasting.  A 
laboratory  toad,  for  example,  may  be 
conditioned  to  avoid  the  conspicuous 
banded  patterns  of  a  bumblebee  and 
its  mimics  after  only  one  unpleasant 

Many  small  animals,  like  the  caterpillar 
of  the  swallowtail  butterfly  shown  here, 
have  conspicuous  false  eyes.  It  is 

thought  that  predators  like  birds  and 
lizards  retreat  when  confronted  by  such 
imitation  eyes,  responding  as  though 
they  were  confronted  by  some  larger 
creature.  The  front  end  of  the  caterpillar 
of  one  moth  found  in  Trinidad  actually 
resembles  the  head  of  a  small  snake, 
complete  with  eyes,  and  "strikes"  at 
intruders.  The  false  eye  of  one  sphinx 
moth  caterpillar  may  actually  "wink." 

False  eyes  may  also  function  as 
deflective  coloration  to  divert  the  attack 
of  an  enemy.  A  predator  often  strikes 
at  its  prey's  headr  and  the  illusion  of 
reversed  posture  created  by  false 
eyes  and  stance  causes  the  enemy  to 
lunge  in  the  opposite  direction  to  that 
in  which  the  prey  will  move  in 
attempting  to  escape. 

But  conspicuous  coloration  is  by  no 
means  confined  to  predator-prey 
relationships.  It  plays  a  wide  variety  of 
roles  in  reproduction  and  social 
behavior.  It  may  aid  in  establishing  and 
maintaining  breeding  territories.  For 
example,  the  familiar  red-winged 
blackbird  displays  his  bright  shoulder 
markings  to  attract  females  and  to 
discourage  other  males  from 
approaching  his  territory.  The  bright 
blue  tail  of  the  young  five-lined  skink 
shown  here  apparently  signals  that  it  is 
juvenile  and  thus  inhibits  attack  by  an 
aggressive  male  parent,  which  resists 
intruders  into  its  territory. 

The  males  of  some  species,  like  the 
Bird  of  Paradise,  display  their  bright 
colors  all  together  to  compete  for  the 
favor  of  the  females.  This  sexual 
selection  by  the  female  perpetuates  the 
colors  of  the  most  brilliant  and 
pleasing  males. 

Conspicuous  colors  of  either  male  or 
female  may  signal  readiness  to  mate, 
like  the  yellow  markings  that  appear  on 
the  female  Spotted  Turtle,  or  the  bright 
red  patch  on  the  chest  and  rear  of  the 
female  Hamadryas  Baboon,  or  the  red 
breast  pouch  of  the  Frigate  Bird. 

Conspicuous  color  markings  may 
"release"  or  trigger  other  kinds  of 


Bulletin     May  1971 

Photos:  from  top  to  bottom — Peplllo  larva  (caterpillar 
of  swallowtail  butterfly),  from  Krachong  Forest  in 
Thailand;  body  width  H  inch.    Horned  lizard,  from 
El  Rosdrio,  Baia  California;  body  length  5  inches. 
Five-lined  skink.  from  Marin  County.  California; 
body  length  6  inches.  Nymphalidae  anaea  itys  (dead 
leaf  butterfly),  from  Tingo  Maria.  Peru.  Copyright  by 
Dr.  Edward  S.  Ross,  California  Academy  of  Sciences. 

behavior  patterns  too  among 
individuals  of  the  same  species. 
Display  of  a  red  spot  on  the  bill  of  the 
adult  Western  Gull  (Larus  occidentalis) 
causes  the  hungry  chicks  to  peck  at 
the  parent,  w/hich  then  regurgitates  food 
for  them.  Experimentation  has  shown 
that  if  the  red  spot  is  covered  with 
paint,  the  chicks  do  not  peck  and  the 
adult  ignores  them. 

Concealing  coloration  is  widespread  in 
the  animal  kingdom.  Its  camouflage 
may  conceal  an  animal  from  its 
enemies  or  from  its  prey,  or  both.  The 
color  of  some  animals  may  impart  a 
general  resemblance  to  the 
surroundings,  like  the  white  of  the 
arctic  fox  or  the  green  of  many  insects 
and  tree  snakes  in  rain  forests,  A  few 
animals,  like  chameleons,  can  change 
their  color  to  match  the  background. 
In  many  sea  animals,  such  as  sharks 
and  other  large  fish,  the  form  of  the 
body  is  obscured  by  counter-shading, 
the  color  being  darker  on  top  and 
lighter  on  the  bottom.  Disruptive 
coloration,  like  the  bold  stripes  of 
many  tropical  fish,  may  break  up  the 
outline  of  the  body  so  that  it  is  not 
easily  seen.  Coloration  may  also 
resemble  special  characteristics  of  the 
background,  like  the  mottled  pattern  of 
the  horned  lizard  or  the  color  and 
texture  of  the  crab  spider  pictured 
here.  The  special  resemblance  of  some 
animals  to  inedible  objects  in  their 
environment,  like  dead  leaves  or  bird 
droppings  or  twigs,  is  achieved  through 
a  combination  of  coloration,  form,  and 
behavior.  There  are  even  insects  that 
camouflage  themselves  by  carrying 
debris  around  on  their  body. 

Mimics  are  among  the  most 
"unbelievable"  examples  of  adaptation 
and  evolution.  Their  resemblance  to 
other  animals  or  plants,  which  are 
called  models,  is  a  special  kind  of 
deception.  The  preying  mantis  that 
closely  resembles  the  orchid  on  which 
it  rests,  the  robber  flies  which  resemble 
bumblebees,  and  the  moth  whose  color 
pattern  is  nearly  identical  to  that  of  a 
butterfly  in  the  same  habitat  are  a 

small  sample  of  mimics.  Mimicry  has 
for  decades  provoked  much  thoughtful 
speculation  as  well  as  uninformed 

The  famous  19th  century  naturalist 
Henry  Bates  puzzled  over  the  fact  that 
in  a  given  locality  along  the  Amazon 
River  several  unrelated  species  of 
butterflies  and  day-flying  moths  were 
almost  exact  "look-alikes,"  even  to 
many  minor  details  of  their  complex 
color  pattern.  He  concluded  that  one 
of  the  species  was  a  "model" 
mimicked  by  the  others  and  that  the 
conspicuously  colored  model  was 
distasteful  to  predators  like  birds, 
which,  through  unpleasant  taste  trials, 
learned  to  avoid  it.  He  reasoned  further 
that  the  mimics  were  palatable  species 
and  that  when  predators  learned  to 
avoid  the  models,  they  also  avoided 
the  mimics.  The  mimics'  resemblance 
to  the  models  thus  conferred  a  degree 
of  protection  on  them  as  well. 

The  naturalist  Fritz  Muller  sought  to 
add  another  dimension  to  the  Bates 
mimicry  theory.  He  found  mimicry 
groups  that  included  more  than  one — 
often  several — presumably  distasteful 
"look-alikes."  He  reasoned  that  if  it 
was  advantageous  for  a  palatable 
species  to  mimic  a  distasteful  one,  it 
was  also  reasonable  to  expect  that 
different  distasteful  species  would  gain 
an  advantage  if  they  resembled  each 
other.  Not  only  would  the  losses 
suffered  through  taste  trials  by  young 
birds  be  divided  among  the  several 
distasteful  species,  the  predators  would 
learn  to  avoid  them  all  more  effectively 
because  they  needed  to  learn  to  avoid 
only  one  rather  than  several  color 
patterns.  This  kind  of  mimicry  is  now 
called  Muller ian  mimicry.  There  may  be 
Batesian  mimics  of  the  MiJIIerian 
mimics  too. 

Over  the  years  there  has  been  much 
argument  about  mimicry.  Few 
denied  that  Batesian  and  MiJIIerian 
mimicry  did  indeed  exist,  but  the 
explanation  was  open  to  question.  It 
was  necessary  first  to  demonstrate  that 

Bulletin     May  1971 


the  models  were  actually  distasteful. 
Ttiis  seemed  dubious  when  early 
experiments  and  observations  with  the 
common  Monarch  Butterfly,  which  was 
supposed  to  be  unpalatable  and 
mimicked  by  the  palatable  Viceroy, 
indicated  that  Monarchs  were  readily 
eaten  by  birds.  This  evidence  caused 
biologists  to  discredit  Bates'  and 
Muller's  hypotheses  and  to  give 
alternative  explanations,  some  of  which 
now  seem  quite  ridiculous. 

The  classic  experiments  by  Dr.  and 
Mrs.  Lincoln  Brower  of  Amherst 
College  and  their  co-workers  and 
colleagues  clearly  support  the  original 
theses  of  Bates  and  Muller.  They  also 
showed  that  the  conclusions  regarding 
the  Monarch's  edibility  were  based  on 
incomplete  evidence.  It  had  been 
assumed  that  the  distasteful  qualities 
of  the  "model"  butterflies  were  due  to 
substances  ingested  by  the  caterpillar 
when  feeding  on  plants  like  milkweeds 
and  that  these  poisons  were  carried 
through  in  the  adult  butterfly.  This  is 
now  known  to  be  true  for  the  Monarch 
as  well  as  for  other  "models."  The 
problem  was  that  in  some  areas  the 
Monarch  caterpillars  feed  on  species 
of  milkweed  that  do  not  contain  the 
distasteful  or  poisonous  components, 
and  in  these  areas  Monarch  Butterflies 
are  indeed  eaten  by  birds.  But 
butterflies  from  caterpillars  that  fed  on 
milkweeds  containing  certain  heart 
poisons  were  not  just  distasteful  to 
birds,  they  actually  made  the  birds  ill 
to  the  point  of  wretching.  Birds  which 
experienced  this  in  the  laboratory 
sometimes  wretched  at  the  very  sight 
of  a  Monarch  if  it  was  offered  to  them 
a  couple  of  days  later. 

Although  the  suppositions  of  Bates  and 
Muller  were  valid  and  explain  why 
mimicry  is  advantageous  to  the  mimic, 
they  do  not  explain  the  mechanism  by 
which  the  mimic  comes  to  resemble 
the  model.  Natural  selection  provides 
what  is  to  most  biologists  not  only  the 
most  reasonable  explanation,  but  the 
only  one  which  has  experimental  and 
observational  evidence  to  support  it. 

Many  animals  exhibit  easily 
demonstrable  individual  variation  in 
structure,  ecological  tolerance, 
behavior,  physiology,  and  coloration. 
Much  of  this  variation  is  due  to 
inherited — that  is,  genetic — differences. 
An  animal  that  may,  to  quote  Darwin, 
"vary  however  slightly  in  any  manner 
profitable  to  itself  under  the  complex 
and  sometimes  varying  conditions  of 
life"  will  have  a  better  chance  of 
surviving.  In  other  words,  an  animal 
with  a  superior  genotype  (its  total 
hereditary  material  or  genes)  will  have 
a  better  chance  of  surviving  than  an 
inferior  one.  But,  what  is  more 
important  than  survival  itself  is  the 
contribution  that  will  be  made  by  the 
survivors  of  each  generation  to  the 
genetic  pool  of  the  next  and 
subsequent  generations. 

The  history  of  the  Peppered  Moth 
{Bislon  betularia)  in  England  is  one  of 
the  most  convincing  examples  of 
natural  selection  that  has  been 
witnessed  as  well  as  verified  by 

Before  the  Industrial  Revolution,  pale 
lichens  covered  trees  over  much  of 
England.  When  light-colored  Peppered 
Moths  rested  on  such  a  tree  trunk  they 
were  almost  invisible  to  bird  predators. 
With  the  Industrial  Revolution,  the 
lichens  near  many  cities  either 
disappeared  or  were  darkened  by  soot 
deposits.  In  1848  a  dark  form  of  the 
Peppered  Moth  was  first  observed. 
This  form  was  inconspicuous  and  thus 
protected  from  predation  when  it 
rested  on  the  darkened  tree  trunks. 
It  gradually  increased  in  numbers  while 
the  light  form,  now  conspicuous, 
suffered  heavily  from  predation.  By 
1900  the  ratio  of  dark  to  light  forms 
was  99  to  1.  This  ratio  is  now  shifting 
back  as  pollution  control  in  Britain 
eliminates  much  of  the  soot  deposition 
and  more  of  the  lighter  forms  of  the 
Peppered  Moths  survive. 

Dr.  H.  B.  D.  Kettlewell  of  England 
performed  a  series  of  wonderfully 
designed  experiments — in  natural 
habitats — to  demonstrate  the  different 

survival  values  of  the  dark  and  light 
forms  when  exposed  to  predation  by 
birds.  Breeding  experiments  then 
demonstrated  a  simple  genetic  basis 
for  the  dark  and  light  forms. 

When  one  reflects  on  this  simple 
example  of  natural  selection,  it  is  much 
easier  to  understand  how  such 
marvelous  adaptations  as  those 
exhibited  in  mimicry,  concealment,  and 
conspicuous  coloration  could  evolve. 
For  many  of  these  genotypes  represent 
an  accumulation  of  "superior"  or 
"successful"  genes  which  survived  and 
were  passed  on  through  many 
thousands,  even  millions,  of 
generations,  by  means  of  natural 

As  Charles  Danwin  wrote  in  Origin  of 
Species:  ".  .  .  whilst  this  planet  has 
gone  cycling  on  according  to  the  fixed 
law  of  gravity,  from  so  simple  a 
beginning  endless  forms  most  beautiful 
and  most  wonderful  have  been,  and 
are  being,  evolved." 

Dr.  Rupert  L  Wenzel  is  chairman  of  the 
Department  of  Zoology,  and  Solomon  A. 
Smith  II  is  coordinator  ol  temporary  exhibits 
at  Field  Museum. 


Bulletin     May  1971 

Alan  Solem 



One  of  my  more  irreverent  colleagues 
divides  the  birds  into  big  white  birds, 
little  bitty  brown  birds,  and  owls.  For 
my  own  part,  I  think  of  Illinois 
mammals  as  foxes,  opossums,  skunks, 
squirrels,  deer,  raccoons,  and  squeaky 
things.  Since  professional  systematists 
can  view  common  animals  in  this 
cavalier  fashion,  it  is  no  wonder  that 
things  so  far  out  of  the  ordinary 
experience  as  sea  snail  shells  become 
clumped  and  confused  in  the  eyes  of 
the  average  person. 

A  few  sea  shells  are  genuinely  rare, 
quite  beautiful,  well  publicized,  and 
eagerly  sought  by  shell  collectors. 
Individual  specimens  have  sold  in 
recent  years  for  $2,000  to  a  rumored 
$4,000  each.  Two  of  these  rarities, 
Conus  gloriamaris  and  Cypraea 
leucodon,  have  been  widely  publicized. 
Blurred  photographs  of  Conus 
gloriamaris  have  appeared  in  popular 
magazines,  while  The  Guinness  Book 
of  World  Records  lists  C.  leucodon  as 
"the  rarest  shell  in  the  world." 
Accompanying  this  totally  incorrect 
listing  is  a  small  black  and  white 

Two  or  three  times  a  month  I  receive 
a  telephone  call  or  a  letter  from  a 
person  who  is  certain  he  has  one  or 
the  other  of  these  very  rare  shells.  It 
may  have  come  down  through  the 
generations  in  a  box  of  shells  collected 
by  a  New  Bedford  whaling  captain  or 
been  bought  in  an  antique  shop  or 
picked  up  while  serving  in  the  South 
Pacific  during  World  War  II,  or  even 
found  discarded  by  a  janitor  cleaning 
up  an  apartment  for  new  tenants. 

Often  the  person  will  have  seen  a 
magazine  or  newspaper  picture  of 
these  rare  shells  and  his  memory  will 
be  triggered.  The  shell  in  a  box  in  the 
attic  will  be  remembered,  and  casual 
curiosity  brings  shell  and  picture 
together.  They  look  the  same. 
Excitement  mounts.  A  trip  to  the  local 
library  to  look  through  its  few  shell 
books  is  of  little  help.  If  these  rarities 
are  illustrated  in  the  books,  no  mention 
is  made  of  similar  looking  shells. 

Hopes  grow  that  a  specimen  of  the 
treasured  shell  is  in  hand.  Pride  of 
ownership,  a  sense  of  discovery, 
visions  of  unexpected  wealth,  and, 
above  all,  the  scent  of  treasure  trove 
mingle.  Calls  to  local  colleges,  bird 
watcher  clubs,  natural  history  societies, 
and  aquarium  stores  fail  to  yield  an 
authoritative  answer.  Eventually  either 
the  Shedd  Aquarium  or  Field  Museum 
is  suggested.  A  short  time  later  my 
telephone  rings  or  a  letter  comes  to 
my  desk.  More  often  than  not  this  is 
followed  by  a  visit  to  my  office.  Field 
Museum  has  just  obtained  a  specimen 
of  Conus  gloriamaris.  Of  Cypraea 
leucodon  we  have  only  good  color 
photographs.  We  have  several  hundred 
specimens  of  the  species  that  are 
generally  confused  with  both  of  them. 
A  glance  at  the  proffered  shell  tells  me 
that  the  high  hopes  are  in  vain.  A 
walk  to  our  collection  cabinets,  an 
opened  drawer,  a  few  words  pointing 
out  that  we  have  from  40  to  200 
specimens  that  are  the  same  as  the 
visitor's  shell,  an  explanation  as  to 
how  it  differs  from  the  pictures  of  the 
rarity — and  the  dreams  have  fallen. 

More  than  ninety  per  cent  of  the 
mistakes  involve  the  same  common 
shells.  Since  the  rarities  are 
surrounded  by  both  history  and 
romance,  a  brief  review  of  their 
background  and  the  points  of 
difference  from  the  common  species 
seems  of  general  interest. 

Cypraea  leucodon,  sometimes  called 
the  white-toothed  cowry,  was 
discovered  in  1828.  This  three-inch 
shell  with  white  spots  on  a  light  brown 
background  was  known  only  from  a 
single  specimen  until  1960,  when  a 
second  shell  was  reported.  It  had  lain 


Bulletin     May  1971 


Top  row:  Ollva  porphyria:  Conua  textile;  Conua 
glorlamaris.    Bottom  row:  Cypraea  maurillana: 
Cypraea  tigris;  Cypraea  leucodof}.  (Cypraea  leucodon 
reproduced  by  permission  from  Van  Nostrand'a 
Standard  Catalog  ol  Shells,  2nd  ed.,  1961,  Var> 
Nostrand-Reinhold  Books.) 

from  The  Action  Line,  Chicago  Today  .  .  .  "I've  been  saving  a  sea  shell  I  found  in  the 
South  Pacific  in  1943  as  a  souvenir.  But  after  reading  the  Guinness  Book  of  World 
Records,  it  appears  it  might  be  a  rare  type  of  cowrie  and  I  might  part  with  it  for  a  price. 
Do  you  know  of  a  good  conchologist  who  could  advise  me?" — Frank  Svihula 

Action  Line:  Alan  Solem,  Ph.D.,  believes  you  are  the  proud  possessor  of  a  very  common 
species  of  shell  that  has  a  value  of  approximately  25  cents.  The  curator  of  invertebrates 
at  the  Field  Museum,  however,  cannot  be  absolutely  sure.  Here's  what  to  do  next: 
If  the  coloring  on  the  shell's  back  consists  of  brown  spots  on  a  white  background  you've 
got  the  25  cent  variety.  If  there  are  light  spots  on  a  dark  background,  turn  the  specimen 
over.  Along  the  edge  of  the  shell  opening  are  a  series  of  "teeth."  Again,  you're  stuck 
with  the  cheapie  if  the  top  part  of  the  teeth  is  dark  brown  and  the  intervals  between  them 
are  whitish.  A  brownish  color  to  the  teeth  means  that  Solem  will  gladly  set  up  an 
appointment  for  you  to  verify  its  identity. 

unrecognized  in,  first,  the  Boston 
Society  of  Natural  History,  and  then 
the  Museum  of  Comparative  Zoology 
at  Harvard  University.  The  shell  had 
been  collected  about  1840  and  had 
remained  incognito  for  120  years!  In 
1965  another  specimen  was  recovered 
from  the  stomach  of  a  fish  caught  in 
the  Sulu  Sea  off  the  Philippine  islands. 
Examining  Philippine  fish  stomachs 
promptly  became  a  popular  pastime. 
At  least  slight  success  has  resulted, 
because  the  Hawaiian  Shell  News  for 
January  1971  announced  that  two 
Cypraea  leucodon  were  being 
displayed  at  a  Philippine  shell  show. 
Obviously  now  five  shells  are  known, 
and  very  probably  a  few  more  rest 
unpubllclzed  In  Philippine  private 

Public  recognition  of  C.  leucodon  as  a 
"most  rare"  shell  rests  solely  on  the 
listing  in  the  Guinness  book.  Literally 
hundreds  of  molluscan  species  are 
known  only  from  single  specimens,  yet 
excite  no  Interest.  They  are  small, 
colorless,  or  unpubllclzed.  The  two 
species  normally  confused  with 
C.  leucodon  are  the  Tiger  Cowry 
(C.  tigris)  and  the  Humpback  Cowry 
(C.  mauritiana).  Both  are  worth  25«  to 
50*  at  most.  Color  differences,  which 
can  be  seen  In  the  picture,  are 
summarized  In  the  table  on  the  next 
page.  The  easiest  distinction  Is  that  only 
the  rare  shell  has  white  spots  on  a 
brown  background. 

Conus  gloriamaris  has  been  famous  for 
more  than  200  years.  This  4"  to  6" 
tapered  shell  with  white  and  gold 
markings  was  a  source  of  frantic 
bidding  at  shell  auctions  in  the  late 
18th  century.  We  do  not  know  where 
these  early  specimens  were  collected. 
Only  when  Hugh  Cuming  picked  up 
two  live  shells  on  a  reef  at  Jacna, 
Bohol  Island,  Philippines  in  the  fall  of 
1836  was  a  locality  identified. 


Bulletin     May  1971 

Tradition  has  it  that  Cuming  "fainted 
with  delight"  at  this  find.  The  historical 
picture  of  Cuming  as  a  hard-headed 
businessman  suggests  rather  that  he 
capered  in  glee  at  the  potential  profits. 
These  plus  two  other  specimens 
collected  from  Indonesia  during  the 
1890s  were  the  only  four  specimens 
found  between  1800  and  1957! 

C.  gloriamaris  shells  have  sold  for  as 
much  as  $2,000.  A  specimen  stolen 
from  an  exhibition  case  at  the 
American  f^useum  of  Natural  History  in 
New  York  has  never  been  recovered. 
Only  22  examples,  including  the  stolen 
shell,  plus  a  few  records  in  the  early 
literature  that  could  not  be  traced  to 
known  specimens  were  listed  in  a 
catalog  of  known  specimens  published 
in  1949.  In  the  early  1950s  a  few 
additional  shells  were  located  in  small 
provincial  museum  collections  in  Europe. 

Late  in  1956  a  live  specimen  was 
dredged  off  Corregidor  Island  in  the 
Philippines.  In  1963  a  specimen  was 
found  near  Rabaul,  New  Britain  in  the 
Bismarck  Archipelago  of  the  South 
Pacific.  Others  had  been  collected  a 
few  years  earlier  but  not  publicized. 
The  next  few  years  saw  many 
specimens  collected  in  the  Bismarcks 
and  Solomon  Islands,  and  in  the 
summer  of  1970  over  100  specimens 
were  collected  off  Guadalcanal  in  the 
Solomon  Islands.  As  a  result,  the  price 
for  a  good  specimen  has  dropped  from 
about  $1,500  to  $500.  It's  still  an 
expensive  item,  but  in  this  day  of 
inflation  not  nearly  as  valuable  as  before. 

A  grim  and  snowy  February  day  was 
greatly  brightened  by  a  small  package 
from  Guadalcanal.  Inside  was  a  104 
mm.  long  specimen  of  Conus 


C.  mauritiani 

C.  tigris 

C.  Leucoiloa 





color  of  shell 




Color  of 
shell  base 




Color  of  spots 

1  ight  brown 



Apertural  teeth 

long  and 
brown  on 
top,  white 
in  inter- 

short  and 

long  and 



gloriamaris  complete  with  operculum 
and  in  perfect  condition.  Through  the 
generosity  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Arthur 
Moulding,  Field  Museum  now  owns 
this  shell,  which  will  be  on  display  in 
the  South  Lounge  May  17  through  July 
11.  The  vast  majority  of  specimens 
found  in  recent  years  have  been  of  the 
80-90  mm.  size  and  usually  have 
several  noticeable  flaws  in  the  shell. 
This  example  had  been  injured  in  life, 
as  is  typical  of  the  species,  and  it 
repaired  itself  during  later  growth. 
Visiting  shell  collectors  have  viewed  it 
with  delight  equal  to  my  own.  It  is  a 
magnificient  addition  to  Field 
Museum's  collections. 

My  own  experience  has  been  that  the 
Indopacific  Conus  textile  and  Oliva 
porphyria  from  West  Mexico  are  the 
two  species  most  frequently  confused 
with  C.  gloriamaris.  Perhaps  a 
geographic  factor  is  involved,  since  at 
the  American  Museum  of  Natural 
History  in  New  York  the  Florida  species 
Oliva  sayana  replaces  the  West 
Mexican  shell.  The  Oliva  totally  lacks 
the  vertical  reddish  lines  found  on  the 
two  Conus  shells,  has  a  heavy  callus 
with  spiral  ridges  on  the  median  line 
of  the  shell  opening,  and  the  early 
whorls  are  minute  with  a  distinct 
channel  where  the  whorls  meet.  Both 
of  the  Conus  have,  typically,  a 
yellowish-orange  base  color,  white 
"tent-like"  markings  edged  with  a  dark 
red  line,  plus  vertical  and  somewhat 
wavy  dark  red  lines.  There  are  no 

spiral  ridges  and  no  channeling  of  the 
whorls.  Conus  textile  is  generally 
smaller,  only  3"  to  4"  long,  its 
"tent-like"  markings  are  proportionately 
larger,  it  is  distinctly  more  rounded  in 
outline,  and  the  spire  (upper  portion  of 
the  shell)  is  less  elongated.  Conus 
gloriamaris  has  an  elongated  spire, 
rather  flat  sides  to  the  shell,  is  larger 
(4"  to  5"  long),  the  "tent-like"  markings 
are  very  small,  and  usually  the  vertical 
red  lines  are  fewer  in  number. 

The  success  of  lotteries  is  based  on 
the  wistful  hope  of  a  lucky  break. 
While  the  chances  are  very  small  that 
your  attic  contains  one  of  the  two 
valuable  shells  described  here,  some 
specimens  of  Conus  gloriamaris  that 
were  in  collections  of  the  last  century 
have  disappeared  from  sight.  One  shell 
of  Cypraea  leucodon  did  sit 
unrecognized  in  a  big  museum  for 
many  years.  Now  where  did  we 
put  that  box  of  sea  shells  from 
Aunt  Marie's  house 


S.  Peter  Dance's  Shell  Collecting — An 
Illustrated  History  (Faber  &  Faber,  1966) 
contains  a  full  review  of  Conus  gloriamaris 
and  a  guide  to  the  earlier  literature. 
Additional  information  is  given  by  R.  T. 
Abbott  in  Notulae  Naturae  of  the  Academy 
of  Natural  Sciences  of  Philadelphia,  number 
400,  1967.  Cypraea  leucodon  Is  briefly 
mentioned  by  S.  Peter  Dance  in  Rare  Shells 
(Faber  &  Faber,  1969). 

Dr.  Alan  Solem  is  curator  of  lower 
invertebrates  in  the  Department  ot  Zoology 
at  Field  Museum. 

Bulletin     [^ay  1971 


Color  in  the  Non-biological  World 

Edward  J.  Olsen 

This  discussion  should  begin  by  saying 
what  light  really  is;  but  this  is  not  possible, 
since  light  is  essentially  more  primitive  than 
any  of  the  terms  that  might  be  used  in  an 
effort  to  explain  It. —sir  charles  oarwin 

This  view  of  the  physicist  grandson  of 
the  author  of  Origin  of  Species  fairly 
well  sums  up  the  current  state  of 
understanding  of  the  phenomenon  of 
light.  For  at  least  2,500  years  Western 
man  has  wrestled  with  the  question  of 
what  light  "really  is." 

In  the  Classical  World  several  fanciful 
views  were  held.  One  explanation 
regarded  light  as  a  stream  of  minute, 
invisible  particles  fired  like  projectiles 
from  any  light  source.  Isaac  Newton, 
twenty-one  centuries  later,  came  to  the 
same  conclusion.  He  developed  the 
Idea  and  expanded  It  Into  a  physical 
theory  of  the  mechanics  of  motion  of 
the  particles,  and  it  came  to  be  called 
the  corpuscular  theory  of  ligtit. 

During  his  own  time,  however,  and  in 
the  following  two  centures,  an 
impressive  body  of  experimental  data 
accumulated  indicating  that  light  could 
only  be  explained  as  a  wave-like 
phenomenon  which  is  propagated  away 
from  a  source  much  like  ripples  on  the 
surface  of  a  pond  into  which  a  pebble 
has  been  dropped.  The  hypothetical 
medium  through  which  it  was 
propagated  was  called  the  ettier.  The 
wave  theory  of  light  became  extremely 
successful  in  predicting  its  behavior 
under  all  known  conditions,  and  the 
corpuscular  theory  gradually  dropped 
into  disuse — until  the  early  part  of  this 
century.  It  was  then  that  certain 
experimental  results  arose  which  could 
only  be  explained  when  light  was 
treated,  again,  as  having  the  properties 
of  particles  (that  is,  corpuscles). 

Thus  arose  a  good  deal  of 
consternation  in  the  world  of  physics 
over  this  puzzling  dual  behavior  of 
light.  Was  it  made  up  of  waves  or  of 

The  puzzle  was  compounded  by  other 
new  experiments  which  suggested  that 
this  kind  of  dual  behavior  is  not 

restricted  to  light.  There  are,  for 
example,  very  minute  particles  called 
electrons.  These  are  definitely  particles. 
In  all  normal  experiments  electrons 
behave  like  tiny,  electrically  charged 
particles.  If,  however,  they  are 
accelerated  to  very  high  velocities,  they 
exhibit  wave  like  characteristics.  Upon 
slowing  down,  they  cease  acting  like 
waves  and  once  again  act  like  particles. 
Now  what  do  you  make  of  that? 

If  you  are  not  a  physicist  you  must 
remain  baffled.  If  you  are  a  physicist 
you  must  become  mentally 
ambidexterous:  when  it  is  necessary  to 
treat  light  as  a  wave,  you  do  so;  when 
it  is  necessary  to  treat  it  as  a  stream 
of  particles,  you  do  that.  At  the  present 
time  then  you  cannot  ask  what  light 
"really  is."  This  essential  duality  of  light 
(and  matter)  is  today  the  major 
metaphysical  frontier  in  the  natural 

In  our  exhibit  Color  in  Nature  it  is  more 
convenient  to  treat  light  as  waves. 
Waves  have  three  basic  properties. 
Wavelength  is  the  measure  of  the  length 
of  a  wave  from  the  top  of  one  wave 
crest  to  the  top  of  the  next  crest. 
Frequency  is  a  measure  of  the  number 
of  crests  that  appear  to  pass  a  given 
point  in  one  second  of  time.  Thus,  if 
60  crests  pass  in  one  second,  the 
frequency  is  called  60  cycles  per 
second,  or  60  Hertz  (abbreviated,  60 
Hz.).  The  cycle-per-second  unit  was 
named  "Hertz"  to  honor  a  19th  century 
German  physicist.  Amplitude  measures 
the  height  of  the  crests  and  is  a 
measure  of  the  energetic  power  of  the 
wave.  It  is  possible  to  have  two  waves 
of  the  same  wavelength  and  frequency, 
but  very  different  amplitudes. 

When  white  light  shines  through  a  prism 
or  reflects  off  a  finely  ruled  grating,  it 
is  broken  up  into  the  visible  spectrum 
of  colors:  red,  orange,  yellow,  green, 
blue,  violet.  The  wavelengths  range 
from  27-millionths  of  an  inch  at  the 
red  end  to  15-millionths  of  an  inch  at 
the  violet  end;  the  corresponding 
frequencies  are  from  430  trillion  Hz.  to 
770  trillion  Hz.,  respectively.  This  is 


Bulletin     May  1971 

the  range  of  frequencies  visible  to  the 
human  eye.  Some  animals — bees,  for 
example — are  capable  of  seeing 
beyond  the  violet  into  the  ultraviolet. 

Beyond  the  ultraviolet,  at 
ever-decreasing  wavelengths,  the 
spectrum  continues  through  X-rays, 
gamma  rays,  and  finally  cosmic  rays, 
which  are  of  extremely  short 
wavelengths,  trillionths  of  an  inch,  and 
hence  very  high  frequencies.  Beyond 
the  red  end  of  the  visible  spectrum,  at 
ever-increasing  wavelengths,  are  the 
infra-red,  which  we  cannot  see  but  can 
sense  as  heat  waves,  radar  waves, 
television  waves,  and  ultimately  radio 
waves,  with  wavelengths  that  range 
over  ten  miles  long  and  hence  have 
extremely  low  frequencies,  under 
10,000  Hz. 

This  whole  expanse,  from  gamma 
waves  to  radio  waves,  is  called  the 
electromagnetic  spectrum,  so  called 
because  a  ray  of  any  of  these  waves 
has  associated  with  it  an  electrical  field 
and  a  magnetic  field. 

In  the  natural  world  we  are  deluged 
with  the  visible  colors.  When  sunlight 
impinges  upon  our  atmosphere  it  is 
refracted  (scattered)  by  the  atoms  of 
the  air  as  well  as  by  suspended  water 
droplets  and  very  fine  dust.  Because 
blue  light  is  more  strongly  scattered 
than  other  wavelengths  of  the  color 
spectrum,  the  sky  apears  blue;  some  of 
the  blue  wavelengths  in  the  sunlight 
are  bent  downward  toward  the  earth's 
surface.  The  other  colors  are  less 
affected  and  generally  pass  on  through 
our  atmosphere.  This  effect  is  strongest 
at  right  angles  to  the  sun;  when  the 
sun  is  low,  the  sky  goes  from  whitish 
to  pale  blue  around  the  horizon  to 
deeper  blue,  almost  violet,  overhead. 

The  blue  of  the  sea  is  the  blue  of  a 
cloudless  sky  reflected  in  the  water. 
When  the  sun  is  covered  by  clouds, 
the  sea  appears  greenish  due  to  the 
microscopic  plants,  phytoplankton,  that 
float  just  under  the  surface.  These  faint 
greens  are  swamped  out  by  the  blue 
on  sunny  days.  On  very  cloudy  days 

even  the  greens  cannot  be  seen  and 
the  water  appears  gray,  even  black, 
due  to  the  weak  light. 

During  a  rain  the  air  is  filled  with 
droplets  of  water,  and  because  it  is 
necessarily  always  cloudy  during 
storms,  the  sky  is  dark.  If,  however, 
there  should  be  a  break  in  the  clouds 
and  the  sunlight  streams  through,  we 
may  obtain  one  of  Nature's  most 
spectacular  color  displays — a  rainbow. 
A  water  droplet  at  a  certain  angle 
between  the  sun's  rays  and  your  eye 
can  act  like  a  prism  and  break  up  the 
sunlight  into  the  spectrum  of  colors.  All 
the  raindrops  in  the  air  which  are 
located  at  the  proper  angle  act 
cooperatively,  each  contributing  its 
small  share,  producing  the  strong  and 
bright  spectrum  which  we  observe. 

Sunrises  and  sunsets  usually  present 
the  most  memorable  displays  of  color 
in  the  sky — red,  yellow,  orange,  pink, 
blue-greens,  and  greens.  These  colors 
become  prominent  because  the  sun's 
rays  are  passing  through  more  of  the 
earth's  atmosphere  when  the  sun  is 
close  to  the  horizon.  So,  before  it 
reaches  your  eye  most  of  the  blue  end 
of  the  spectrum  has  been  removed  by 
scattering  downward  and  upward.  In 
addition,  because  of  daytime  winds  and 
animal  and  human  activities  during  the 
daylight  hours,  many  particles  of  dust 
have  been  lofted  into  the  air.  These  aid 
in  scattering  the  blue  wavelengths  out 
of  the  sunlight  making  it  appear  redder. 
The  more  such  dust  in  the  air,  the 
more  spectacular  the  sunset.  This  is 
why  sunsets  are  often  redder  in 
populous  areas,  around  cities,  where 
there  are  a  great  many  more  dust  and 
smoke  particles  in  the  air  than  in 
isolated  places.  It  is  also  the  reason 
that  sunrises  are  usually  less 
spectacular  than  sunsets;  animal  and 
human  activities  are  much  diminished 
during  the  dark  hours  of  the  night,  so 

Photos:  At  left — Nortti  American  Nebula  in  Cygnus; 
from  Hale  Observatories,  Pasadena,  California; 
copyright  by  California  Institute  of  Technology  and 
Carnegie  Institute  of  Technology.   At  right,  from  top 
to  bottom — Novacekite,  a  uranium  mineral; 
Smithsonite,  a  zinc  mineral,  which  comes  in  several 
different  colors;  and  Cuprite,  a  copper  mineral. 

there  is  less  dust  in  the  air  at  sunrise. 
Also,  the  dust  from  the  previous  day 
has  settled  during  the  night  and  night 
breezes  are  commonly  less  gusty, 
raising  less  dust.  This  again  is  different 
in  populous  areas.  In  large  cities  it  is 
common  to  burn  trash  during  the 
nighttime  hours,  giving  the  air  an 
abundant  supply  of  fine  particles  that 
scatter  the  morning's  rays,  producing 
redder  sunrises  than  might  otherwise 
be  the  case. 

Most  of  us  are  not  accustomed  to 
thinking  of  color  in  the  space  away 
from  our  earth.  It  is  there,  albeit  it  is 
not  especially  spectacular.  The  planet 
Mars  is  a  definite  rusty  red  color;  Venus 
is  snow  white;  Mercury  and  our  moon 
are  gray;  the  planet  Neptune  is  pale 
green;  and  Jupiter  has  a  huge,  bright 
red  spot  in  its  upper  atmosphere  that 
revolves  around  the  giant  planet. 
Beyond  our  solar  system  the  stars 
themselves  show  a  range  of  colors — 
some  red,  some  yellow,  some  brilliant 

The  color  of  any  mineral  is  purely  an 
accidental  feature  of  it.  This  is  in 
contrast  to  plants  and  animals  where 
coloration  usually  plays  a  significant 
role  in  several  aspects  of  survival.  For 
a  given  mineral,  whether  it  has  one 
color  or  another  is  purely  immaterial 
and  irrelevant  from  the  mineral's  point 
of  view,  if  an  inanimate  object  can  be 
thought  of  as  having  a  point  of  view. 

Bulletin     May  1971 


The  origin  of  colors  in  most  minerals  is 
only  poorly  understood.  It  is  not 
uncommon  for  a  specific  mineral  to 
show  a  wide  variety  of  colors  in  its 
different  occurrences  in  nature.  The 
common  mineral  fluorite,  for  example, 
has  been  found  in  twelve  different 
colors.  In  some  instances  fluorite  will 
show  a  color  change  within  a  single 
crystal — a  matter  of  an  inch  or  less. 
There  is  no  clear  explanation  of  the 
wide  variety  of  colors  in  this  mineral. 

Occasionally,  however,  color  can  be 
related  to  the  chemical  composition  of 
a  mineral.  Manganese  minerals  are 
often  red;  cobalt  minerals  often  pink; 
copper  minerals  often  green,  and  so 
forth.  It  is,  unfortunately,  not  always 
that  simple.  Some  copper  minerals  are 
blue;  some  manganese  minerals  black; 
some  cobalt  minerals  silver  colored. 
There  are  no  perfect  rules  in  this 

A  minor  impurity  can  sometimes  cause 
a  mineral  color  to  change.  The  mineral 
called  microcline  is  normally  creamy 
white.  With  a  small  impurity  of  lead 
(about  0.03  percent),  it  is  a  startling 
blue-green  color  that  is  attractive 
enough  to  create  a  demand  for  the 
mineral  as  a  semi-precious  gemstone 
— called  Amazonstone.  The  mineral 
sphalerite,  a  compound  of  zinc  and 
sulfur,  in  its  pure  form  is  pale  amber 
in  color.  A  few  tenths  of  a  percent  of 
iron  impurity  cause  it  to  darken  to  a 
shiny  black,  called  blackjack  by  miners. 

The  chemical  addition  of  oxygen  to  a 
mineral  always  alters  the  color  and 
properties.  Minerals  that  contain  small 
amounts  of  iron  become  pink  or 
reddish-brown  by  oxidation.  In  the 
extreme  case,  a  mineral  can  be 
completely  converted  by  this  process 
to  a  new  mineral  with  a  very  different 
appearance.  The  mineral  galena,  for 
example,  is  a  lustrous  metallic  gray.  It 
is  a  combination  of  equal  parts  of  lead 
and  sulfur.  When  it  is  oxidized  with 
four  parts  oxygen,  it  becomes  the 
mineral  called  anglesite,  which  is  clear, 
transparent,  and  colorless — very 
different  from  galena  in  appearance. 

Heating  a  mineral  in  air  can  sometimes 
cause  mild  oxidation  to  take  place. 
This  principle  has  been  used  for 
centuries  in  the  gem  industry.  When 
gem  quality  green  beryl  is  mined,  it  is 
routinely  heated  in  air  for  a  period  of 
days.  This  sometimes  converts  it  to  a 
medium-blue  color,  and  it  is  then 
called  aquamarine,  which  is  a  good 
deal  more  valuable  than  green  beryl. 
Similarly,  colorless  to  pale  pink 
spodumene  can  be  converted  to  the 
deep  rose-colored  gem  kunzite,  and 
gray  zoisite  to  a  deep  blue  gem  called 

It  has  long  been  known  that  exposure 
to  radioactivity  and  X-rays  can  change 
the  color  of  a  mineral.  Quartz  becomes 
smoky,  white  topaz  becomes  brown, 
white  fluorite  becomes  purple.  Such 
radioactively  induced  changes  are  not 
always  permanent,  however.  Once  the 
mineral  is  removed  from  its  radioactive 
surroundings  it  will  often  gradually 
revert  to  its  original  color. 

In  some  rare  instances  a  mineral  will 
change  its  color  when  the  atoms  that 
compose  it  are  geometrically 
rearranged.  The  best  examples  of  this 
phenomenon  are  the  minerals 
composed  of  simple  carbon.  When  the 
carbon  atoms  are  arranged  in  stacks  of 
planar  sheets,  the  mineral  is  black  and 
shiny,  almost  metallic  in  appearance. 
It  is  called  graphite.  When  the  same 
carbon  atoms  are  relinked  into  a 
three-dimensional  network,  the  mineral 
is  transparent,  clear,  and  brilliant — 

Probably  the  questions  that  are  most 
often  asked  a  mineralogist  by  the  public 
pertain  to  why  minerals  exhibit  the 
often  striking  colors  they  do.  These  are, 
regrettably,  just  the  questions  that 
cannot  be  answered.  One  can 
occasionally  produce  a  weak  reply,    . 
knowing  that  the  "answer"  is  really  no 
answer  at  all.  A  great  deal  is  known 
about  the  properties  of  mineral 
structures — their  physical  and  electrical 
properties,  geometrical  properies,  etc. 
Unfortunately,  these  are  not  the  aspects 
about  which  most  people  are  curious. 

One  could  say  that  if  so  little  is  known 
about  coloration  in  minerals,  perhaps 
the  mineralogist  ought  to  devote  some 
effort  to  a  study  of  it.  Mineralogy,  like 
most  of  the  geological  sciences, 
depends  heavily  for  its  advances  in 
understanding  upon  advances  in  the 
disciplines  of  physics  and  chemistry. 
Mineral  color  is  the  result  of  the 
interaction  of  light  upon  solid  matter — 
the  chemical  compounds  we  call 
minerals.  Search  for  a  real 
understanding  of  color  production  in 
these  solids  leads  us  immediately  back 
to  the  question  of  the  nature  of  light 
itself.  And  that,  as  we  have  seen, 
leads  right  back  to  the  dual  nature  of 
light  as  a  form  of  electromagnetic 
radiation — one  of  the  major  unresolved 
questions  of  the  physical  universe  today. 

Dr.  Edward  J.  Olsen  is  curator  of  mineralogy 
in  the  Department  of  Geology  at 
Field  -Museum. 


Bulletin    May  1971 



9  a.m.  to  6  p.m.  Saturday-Thursday 
9  a.m.  to  9  p.m.  Friday 

The  Museum  Library  is  open  9  a.m. 
to  4:30  p.m.  Monday  through  Friday 


Color  in  Nature,  an  exhibit  of  broad  scope, 
examines  the  nature  and  variety  of  color 
in  the  physical  and  living  world  around  us, 
and  how  it  functions  in  plants  and  animals 
in  their  struggle  for  survival,  reproduction, 
and  evolution.  It  focuses  on  the  many  roles 
of  color,  as  in  mimicry,  camouflage,  warning, 
sexual  recognition  and  selection,  energy 
channeling,  and  vitamin  production,  using 
specimens  from  the  Museum's  huge 
collections.  Through  October  10.  Hall  25. 

The  Afro-American  Styie,  From  the  Design 
Works  of  Bedford-Stuyvesant,  an  exhibit  of 
hand-printed  textiles  blending  classical 
African  motifs  and  contemporary  design. 
The  original  African  art  from  Field  Museum's 
Benin  collection,  which  inspired  many  of 
the  designs,  is  shown  in  conjunction  with 
the  textiles.  Through  September  12.  Hall  9. 

Jolin  James  Audubon's  elephant  folio. 
The  Birds  of  America,  on  display  in  the 
North  Lounge.  A  different  plate  from  the 
rare,  first-edition  set  is  featured  each  day. 

75tli  Anniversary  Exiiibit:  A  Sense  of 
Wonder,  A  Sense  of  History,  A  Sense  of 
Discovery,  explores  Field  Museum's  past 
and  present  and  some  of  its  current 
research  projects  in  a  new  and  exciting 
manner.  Continues  indefinitely.  Hall  3. 


"Portraits  of  Man,"  a  selection  of  sculptures 
by  Malvina  Hoffman  of  people  from  various 
parts  of  the  world,  on  permanent  display  in 
the  second  floor  corridors  overlooking 
Stanley  Field  Hall  and  in  the  North  and 
South  Lounges.  These  bronze  and  stone 

sculptures  are  some  of  the  finest 
representations  of  Malvina  Hoffman's  work 
in  Field  Museum's  collections. 


Portrait  of  tfie  Cliippewa,  a  collection  of 
100  photographs  edited  from  over  5,000 
negatives  taken  on  the  Red  Lake  Indian 
reservation  in  Northern  Minnesota.  The 
exhibit  portrays  the  Chippewa  in  his  culture 
and  shows  him  in  relation  to  his  family  and 
his  way  of  life.  South  Lounge. 


A  rare,  wiid  aibino  minit,  in  a  special 
display  in  the  South  Lounge.  This  almost 
adult  female  specimen  is  the  gift  of  Terry  L. 
Perry  of  Johnston,  Iowa,  who  captured  it 
about  16  months  ago. 


A  Specimen  of  the  Conus  glorlamarts,  the 

most  famous  sea  shell  and  one  of  the 
world's  rarest,  shown  in  the  South  Lounge 
through  July  11.  Acquisition  of  this  perfect 
specimen  was  made  possible  through  the 
generosity  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Arthur  Moulding. 


"To  See  or  Not  to  See,"  Spring  Journey 
for  Children,  helps  them  learn  about  the 
diversity  of  colors  and  color  patterns  of 
selected  animals,  as  well  as  the  advantages 
»f  mimicry  and  pigmentation  changes,  with 
the  aid  of  a  questionnaire.  All  youngsters 
who  can  read  and  write  may  participate 
in  the  free  program.  Journey  sheets  are 
available  at  Museum  entrances. 


"Dinosaur  Hunt,"  Summer  Journey  for 
Children,  seeks  out  Museum  exhibits  and 
paintings  with  the  aid  of  a  question  and 
answer  sheet,  to  acquaint  youngsters  with 
the  prehistoric  animals.  All  boys  and  girls 
who  can  read  and  write  may  participate  in 
the  free  program.  Journey  sheets  are 
available  at  Museum  entrances.  Through 
August  31. 


May  11: 

Nature  Camera  Club  of 

7:45  p.m., 
May  11:  8  p.m.,  Chicagoland  Glider  Council 
May  12:  7  p.m.,  Chicago  Ornithological 

May  13:  7:30  p.m..  Windy  City  Grotto- 
National   Speleological   Society 
May  16:  2  p.m.,  Illinois  Orchid  Society 
May  23:  2  p.m.,  Chicago  Shell  Club 


i     MAY  6  AND  7,  1971      ' 
6:00  to  10:00  p.m. 

Exhibits,  films,  entertainment,  and  special 
events  focus  on  "The  World  Around  Us." 


This  is  a  once-a-year  opportunity  to  meet 

with  the  members 

of  the  scientific  staff 

in  all  the  departments — 

anthropology,  botany,  geology, 

and  zoology — and  to  see  the 

unusual  behind-the-scenes  displays  and  *i 

demonstrations  they  have  arranged  for  you. 

Programs  for  both  evenings  are  identical. 
Friday  night  >*  attendance  probably 
will  be  much  1\  heavier,  since  families 
with  children  \\  prefer  that  evening. 
You  are  urged  r>\,  to  plan  on  coming 
Thursday  night  y^^S  if  you  don't  have 
school  children.  ]}__/j: j,__  JJ,.^,^ 

Volume  42,  Number  6  June  1971 

Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 



Volume  42,  Number  6 
June  1971 

Cover:  Gibbon  species  show  three  different 
patterns  of  color  variation;  monomorphism, 
all  the  same  color;  asexual  dimorphism, 
color  unrelated  to  sex;  and  sexual 
dimorphism,  color  linked  to  sex. 

2    Color  and  Sex  in  Gibbons 

Jack  Fooden 

gibbons  vary  in  hair  color,  much  as  do  human  beings;  an 
evolutionary  theory  of  variation  is  now  being  worked  out  which 
involves  some  interesting  relationships  between  sex  and  color 

8    (Members'  Nights 

7,205  members  visit  behind  the  scenes;  are  you  among  them? 

10    Forward  and  Bacl(ward  Glances 

John  R.  Millar 

May  2,  1971  marked  fiftieth  birthday  of  Museum  building  on  the 

lake  front 

12  The  Campo  del  Cielo  Meteorite 

Edward  J.  Olsen 

a  new-found  piece  of  an  old  meteorite  presents  some  special 


13  Book  Reviews 

14  Field  Briefs 
16   Letters 


Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 
Director,  E.  Leiand  Webber 

Editor  Joyce  Zibro;  Associate  Editor  Elizabeth  Munger;  Staff  Writer  Madge  Jacobs;  Production  Russ  Becker;  Photography  John  Bayalis, 
Fred  Huysmans. 

The  Bulletin  is  published  monthly  by  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605.  Subscrip- 
tions: $9  a  year;  $3  a  year  for  schools.  Members  of  the  Museum  subscribe  through  Museum  membership.  Opinions  expressed  by  authors 
are  their  own  and  do  not  necessarily  reflect  the  policy  of  Field  Museum.  Unsolicited  manuscripts  are  welcome.  Printed  by  Field  Museum 
Press.  Application  to  mail  at  second-class  postage  rates  is  pending  at  Chicago,  Illinois.  Postmaster:  Please  send  form  3579  to  Field  Museum 
of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605. 

Bulletin    June  1971 

\*  * 

Color  and  sex  in  gibbons 

Jack  Fooden 

Gibbons  are  small  thickly  furred  apes 
that  live  in  the  dense  tropical  rain 
forests  of  Southeast  Asia.  They  are 
the  smallest  of  the  four  so-called 
anthropoids  or  apes — the  tailless 
non-human  primates  that  most  closely 
resemble  the  human  primate,  us.  The 
gorilla,  chimpanzee,  and  orangutan  are 
the  other  three.  Gibbons  are  highly 
skilled  brachiators,  unlike  the  larger 
apes  (and  virtually  all  monkeys).  That  is, 
their  characteristic  mode  of  locomotion 
is  swinging  from  branch  to  branch  by 
their  arms.  In  fact,  they  are  often 
spectacular  "trapeze  artists,"  making 
aerial  leaps  as  wide  as  forty-five  feet. 
They  are  also  highly  vocal.  Their  loud 
singing,  especially  in  early  morning, 
can  be  heard  for  more  than  a  mile 
through  the  forest.  It  probably  serves  to 
establish  territorial  feeding  boundaries 
between  neighboring  troops.  Some 
species  have  a  highly  expandable 
resonating  throat  pouch  which  gives 
several  tones  to  their  hoots  and  wails, 
and  at  a  decibel  level  that  would  be 
appreciated  by  admirers  of  our  own 
echo-chamber  and  electronic 
amplification  technology. 

Many  Gibbons  live  in  monogamous 
"nuclear  family"  troops  consisting  of  a 
mother,  father,  and  up  to  three 
offspring,  of  ages  two  years  apart.  The 
family  would  usually  be  no  larger  than 
five  because  gibbons  breed  only  every 
two  years,  only  one  infant  is  born  at  a 
time,  and  when  the  oldest  offspring  is 
around  six  it  is  chased  out  of  this 
family  circle.  Gibbons  are  in  their 
prime  between  ages  seven  and 
seventeen,  although  their  maximum  life 
span  is  about  twenty-five  years. 

All  of  these  behavioral  characteristics 
make  the  various  species  of  gibbons, 
genus  Hylobates,  inherently  interesting 
to  the  species  sapiens,  genus  Homo. 

The  great  French  zoologist  of  the  18th 
century,  Buffon,  was  the  first  person  to 

A  blond  H.  lar  entelloides,  an  asexualiy 
dimorphic  subspecies.  Photo  by  Saul 

describe  the  animals  in  some  detail  to 

the  West.  His  information  was  a 

by-product  of  French  colonial  incursions 

into  the  gibbon's  native  regions  in 

Southeast  Asia.  But  the  Chinese  have 

long  known  and  been  fascinated  by 

gibbons.  The  history  of  their  interest 

in  gibbons  was  recently  documented  by 

the  late  R.  H.  van  Gulick,  Lift.  D.,  a 

gentleman  scholar  whose  own  affection 

for  the  animals  developed  in  the  course 

of  his  career  in  the  Far  East  in  the 

diplomatic  service  of  his  country,  the 


From  the  first  centuries  of  our  era  on, 
Chinese  writers  have  celebrated  the  gibbon 
in  prose  and  poetry,  dwelling  in  loving  detail 
on  his  habits,  both  in  the  wild  and  in 
captivity.  Great  Chinese  painters  have 
drawn  the  gibbon  in  all  shapes  and 
attitudes;  till  about  the  14th  century  from 
living  models,  and  when  thereafter  the 
increasing  deforestation  had  reduced  the 
gibbon's  habitat  to  southwest  China,  basing 
their  pictures  on  the  work  of  former  painters 
and  on  hearsay.  So  important  was  the 
gibbon  in  Chinese  art  and  literature,  that  he 
migrated  to  Japan  and  Korea  together  with 
the  other  Chinese  literary  and  artistic 
motifs,  although  I  neither  1  Japan  nor  Korea 
ever  belonged  to  the  gibbons'  habitat.  The 
gibbon  thus  occupies  a  unique  place  in 
Far  Eastern  culture,  it  being  possible  to 
trace  the  extent  of  his  habitat,  his 
appearance  and  his  mannerisms  for  more 
than  two  thousand  years. 

The  gibbon  has  been  considered  by 
the  Chinese  from  ancient  times  to  be  the 
aristocrat  among  apes  and  monkeys; 
he  symbolized  a  "gentleman."  The 
macaque,  on  the  other  hand,  "was  the 
symbol  of  human  astute  trickery  but 
also  of  human  credulity  and  general 
foolishness,"  according  to  van  Gulick. 

The  philosopher  Huai-nan-tzu,  who  died 

in  122  B.C.,  wrote  a  parable  that 

became  a  kind  of  proverb  through  the 


If  you  put  a  gibbon  inside  a  cage,  you 
might  as  well  keep  a  pig.   It  is  not  because 
the  gibbon  is  then  not  clever  or  swift 
anymore,  but  because  he  has  no  opportunity 
for  displaying  his  abilities. 

Whatever  mythological  or  symbolic 
significance  became  attached  to  the 
gibbon,  close  observation  was  involved 
also.  However,  thorough  modern 
behavioral  studies  of  gibbons  have 
only  recently  begun  to  be  made. 

But  there  is  another,  non-behavioral, 
characteristic  of  gibbons  that  is  most 
interesting  to  me  as  an  evolutionary 
zoologist.  The  color  of  the  dense  fur 
that  covers  the  body  of  gibbons  varies 
strikingly  from  one  species  to  another, 
and  in  some  species  from  one 
individual  to  another.  The  colors  range 
from  pale  silver-gray  to  blond  to 
medium  brown  to  dark  brunet  or 
blackish.  This  coat  color  variation 
presents  an  intriguing  problem  for 
evolutionary  interpretation.  Some 
interpretations  can  now  be  made,  at 
least  tentatively,  on  the  basis  of 
evidence  already  available. 

I  first  became  seriously  interested  in 
the  problem  of  gibbon  coat  colors  in 
1967  as  a  result  of  an  expedition  to 
western  Thailand  that  I  conducted  for 
Field  Museum,  with  the  support  of  a 
grant  from  the  U.S.  Public  Health 

Although  our  primary  objective  was  to 
study  monkeys  that  inhabit  the  forests 
of  this  region,  my  field  companions  and 
I  collected  several  gibbon  specimens 
also,  of  the  species  Hylobates  lar — 
more  particularly,  the  subspecies  or 
race  Hylobates  lar  entelloides.  One  of 
the  most  striking  things  about  this 
subspecies  is  that  there  are  two 
sharply  defined  color  types — blonds, 
which  are  pale  yellowish  buff,  and 
brunets,  which  are  blackish  brown. 
The  local  people  in  Thailand  call  them 
cha-nee  l<liao  ("white  gibbon")  and 
cha-nee  dam  ("black  gibbon").  I  knew 
these  color  types  existed  because  the 
fact  had  been  reported  in  scientific 
literature,  and  also  the  observation  that 
coat  color  in  this  subspecies  is 
completely  independent  of  age  and  sex. 
We  collected  or  observed  blond  males 
and  brunet  males  and  blond  females 
and  brunet  females  at  all  stages  of 
development  from  infancy  to  old  age. 

When  I  returned  to  Chicago  and  began 
to  study  the  specimens  and  other  data 
that  we  had  collected,  I  became 
curious  about  color  variation  in  other 
subspecies  and  species  of  gibbons. 
From  one  source  or  another — published 

Bulletin    June  1971 

Mother  and  infant  of  the  H.  syndactylus 
species,  brunet  and  monomorphic.  Photo 
by  Saul  Kitchener. 

zoological  literature  and  also  previously 
collected  museum  specimens — I  found 
information  about  color  for  all  of  the 
seven  known  species  of  gibbons.  I 
learned  that  some  are  like  the  kind  we 
collected  in  Thailand — that  is,  the 
animals  have  different  colors 
independent  of  age  or  sex;  in  others, 
all  individuals  of  one  sex  are  one  color 
and  all  individuals  of  the  other  sex  are 
a  different  color;  and  in  still  others,  all 
individuals  are  the  same  color.  But  this 
information  apparently  had  never  been 
brought  together  and  analyzed 
systematically.  My  subsequent  study  of 
the  available  information  revealed  a 
fairly  clear  pattern  of  coat  color 
variation  in  gibbons. 

These  three  major  categories  of  coat 
color  variation  just  mentioned  can  be 
designated  by  the  somewhat  formidable 
technical  terms  asexual  dimorphism, 
sexual  dimorphism,  and  monomorphism. 
These  terms  could,  of  course,  apply  to 
other  characters  as  well  as  coat  color. 

The  term  asexual  dimorphism  implies 
that  both  males  and  females  may  be 
either  blond  or  brunet,  as  in  the 
populations  I  encountered  in  Thailand. 
The  term  sexual  dimorphism  indicates 
that  coat  color  is  correlated  with  sex. 
The  term  monomorphism  implies  that 
all  members  of  a  species  or 
subspecies  at  any  given  place — any 
local  population — have  essentially  the 
same  coat  color. 

The  seven  species  of  gibbons  that 
zoologists  usually  recognize  have  the 
following  scientific  names:  Hylobates 
lar;  H.  agilis;  H.  hoolock;  H.  concolor; 
H.  moloch;  H.  syndactylus:  and  H. 
klossii.  Mostly  the  respective  geographic 
ranges  of  these  species  are  adjacent 
to  one  another  and  do  not  overlap.  In 
Sumatra  and  Malaya,  however,  two 
species  of  gibbons  inhabit  the  same 

The  first  species  mentioned,  H.  lar,  has 
four  subspecies:  H.  lar  entelloides,  the 
gibbons  I  collected;  H.  lar  lar;  H.  lar 
pileatus;  and  H.  lar  vestitus.  So  far  as 
coat  color  is  concerned,  this  species 

as  a  whole  is  different  from  the  other 
six,  and  the  four  subgroups  must  be 
considered  separately.  Although  most 
of  the  other  six  also  have  recognizable 
subspecies,  the  pattern  of  coat  color 
variation  is  constant  within  each 

H.  agilis,  like  H.  lar  entelloides,  is 
asexually  dimorphic — that  is,  both 
males  and  females  may  be  either 
blond  or  brunet.  So  is  H.  lar  lar.  The 
agilis  species  inhabits  all  of  Sumatra 
except  the  northern  tip  and  inhabits 
also  a  small  area  on  the  western  coast 
of  Malaya.  Adjacent  to  it  on  the  north 
lives  the  lar  entelloides  subspecies, 
which  inhabits  part  of  the  Malay 
Peninsula  plus  northern  and  western 
Thailand.  And  also  adjacent  to  it  on 
the  east  is  the  lar  lar  subspecies,  in 
Malaya.  All  these  species'  territories 
are  shown  on  the  map. 

The  two  species  H.  hoolock  and  H. 
concolor  and  the  subspecies  H.  lar 
pileatus  are  all  sexually  dimorphic — 
that  is,  coat  color  is  correlated  with 
sex.  In  each  of  these  three  groups  all 
adult  males  are  brunet  and,  whether 
or  not  these  gibbon  gentlemen  prefer 

blonds,  that  is  what  they  get, 
because  all  adult  females  are  blond. 
Surprisingly,  all  hoolock  and  concolor 
infants  are  pale  colored  at  birth  and 
turn  dark  before  they  are  one  year  old. 
Males  remain  dark  from  then  on,  and 
females  turn  pale  again  when  they 
reach  sexual  maturity,  at  about  six 
years  of  age.  In  lar  pileatus,  all  infants 
are  born  pale;  males  turn  dark  as  they 
mature;  and  females  apparently  develop 
only  dark  patches,  with  most  of  their 
body  remaining  pale. 

These  color  changes  are  a  normal  part 
of  development  and  are  unique  to 
sexually  dimorphic  gibbons.  Asexually 
dimorphic  and  monomorphic  gibbons 
remain  whatever  color  they  are  at  birth. 
All  three  of  the  sexually  dimorphic 
groups — hoolock,  concolor,  and  lar 
pileatus — inhabit  the  Indochinese 
Peninsula.  In  Assam  and  Burma  west 
of  the  Salween  River  is  hoolock; 
concolor  is  east  of  the  Mekong  River 
in  southern  China,  Laos,  Vietnam,  and 
Cambodia;  with  lar  pileatus  adjacent  to 
the  west  and  south,  in  Cambodia, 
Laos,  and  Thailand. 

The  three  species  H.  moloch,  H. 
syndactylus.  and  H.  klossii  and  the 
subspecies  H.  lar  vestitus  are  all 
monomorphic — that  is,  all  members  of 
each  group  at  any  given  place  have 
essentially  the  same  coat  color.  The 
moloch  group  inhabits  both  Java, 
where  all  individuals  are  pale  grey,  and 
Borneo,  where  all  individuals  are 
brown.  All  syndactylus  individuals  are 
blackish,  in  both  Sumatra  and  Malaya. 
The  dwarf  gibbon  klossii,  which  is 
restricted  to  four  small  islands  off  the 
western  coast  of  Sumatra,  is  also 
blackish.  And  lar  vestitus,  in  northern 
Sumatra,  is  always  medium  brown. 

Viewed  overall,  the  color  variations  in 
gibbons  present  a  fairly  simple  and 
regular  geographic  pattern,  as 
indicated  by  the  shadings  on  the  map. 
The  monomorphic  species  and 
subspecies  (moloch,  syndactylus, 
klossii,  and  lar  vestitus)  are  restricted 
to  the  southern  part  of  the  total  range 
of  gibbons.  The  asexually  dimorphic 

Bulletin    June  1971 

Distribution  of  Coat  Color  Types  in 
Species  and  Subspecies  of  Gibbons 

sexual  dimorphism,  ^9 :  H.  hoolock,  H.  concofor, 
H.  lar  pileaius 

asexual  dimorphism,  i<S%Q  :  H.  lar  entelloides, 

H.  lar  lar,  H.  agllla 

monomorphism,  (f  a  :  H.  far  vestitus,  H.  klossii, 
H.  syndactflus,  H.  moloch 

Bulletin     June  1971 

species  and  subspecies  (agllis,  lar  lar, 
and  lar  entelloides)  inhabit  the  middle 
part  of  the  range.  The  sexually 
dimorphic  species  and  subspecies 
{concolor,  hoolock,  and  lar  pileatus) 
inhabit  the  northernmost  part  of  the 
range.  This  simple  geographic 
distribution  suggests  that  there  may  be 
a  simple  evolutionary  relationship 
among  the  three  major  categories  of 
color  variation. 

One  problem  in  formulating  an 
evolutionary  interpretation  of  coat  color 
variation  in  gibbons  is  to  decide  what 
the  probable  ancestral  or  primitive 
color  state  may  have  been.  Because 
about  45  of  the  50  known  major 
groups  of  primates  are  monomorphic 
with  respect  to  coat  color,  it  seems 
probable  that  monomorphism  is  the 
primitive  color  state  in  gibbons. 
Accordingly,  the  simplest  interpretation 
of  color  evolution  in  gibbons  is  that 
monomorphism  is  the  ancestral 
condition,  that  monomorphic  gibbons 
gave  rise  to  asexually  dimorphic 
gibbons,  and  that  these  in  turn 
subsequently  gave  rise  to  sexually 
dimorphic  gibbons.  The  present 
geographic  distribution  of  these  color 
states  suggests  that  the  postulated 
transition  from  monomorphism  to 
asexual  dimorphism  took  place  in  the 
southern  part  of  the  range  and  that  the 
transition  from  asexual  dimorphism  to 
sexual  dimorphism  took  place  in  the 
northern  part  of  the  range. 

If  the  hypothesis  presented  above 
correctly  interprets  the  direction  and 
geography  of  the  evolution  of  color 
variation  in  gibbons,  the  next  question 
to  be  asked  is.  Why  did  these 
evolutionary  changes  occur?  In  other 
words,  what  is  the  selective  force  or 
survival  value  that  is  responsible  for 
the  presumed  change  from 
monomorphism  to  asexual  dimorphism 
and  finally  to  sexual  dimorphism? 
Although  there  is  no  comprehensive 
answer  to  this  question  as  yet,  there 
are  some  clues  that  seem  to  indicate 
possibly  productive  directions  for 
future  research. 

First,  at  least  part  of  the  genetic  basis 
of  color  evolution  in  gibbons  seems  to 
be  clear.  From  study  of  families  of 
asexually  dimorphic  gibbons  that  I 
observed  in  Thailand  and  from 
information  provided  by  other 
observers,  it  appears  that  two  blond 
gibbon  parents  virtually  always  produce 
blond  offspring,  whereas  two  brunet 
gibbon  parents  may  produce  both 
blond  and  brunet  offspring.  This 
pattern  of  hair  color  inheritance  is 
essentially  the  same  as  in  human 
blonds  and  brunets.  Blondness  in 
gibbons,  as  in  humans,  appears  to  be 
a  genetically  recessive  trait,  and 
brunetness  a  genetically  dominant 
trait.  In  the  sexually  dimorphic  species 
and  subspecies  of  gibbons,  the  genetic 
factor  that  controls  coat  color  evidently 
has  somehow  become  linked  to  the 
genetic  factor  that  determines  sex. 

Another  fragment  of  evidence  that 
bears  on  the  evolution  of  color 
variation  in  gibbons  is  the  fact  that  in 
the  asexually  dimorphic  species  and 

A  juvenile  white-ctieeked  male  H.  concolor, 
necessarily  brunet  because  the  species  is 
sexually  dimorphic.  Photo  by  Saul 

subspecies  the  proportion  of  blond  and 
brunet  individuals  varies  from  place  to 
place.  In  the  ag/7/s  species,  brunets 
constitute  about  50  percent  of 
populations  observed  in  Sumatra  and 
about  75  percent  of  those  observed  in 
Malaya.  In  lar  lar  and  lar  entelloides, 
brunets  constitute  about  80  percent  of 
populations  in  the  southern  part  of  the 
Malay  Peninsula,  about  10  percent  in 
the  northern  part  of  the  Malay 
Peninsula,  and  about  50  percent  in 
Thailand.  This  also  is  reminiscent  of 
the  situation  with  respect  to  human 
hair  color,  if  we  consider,  for  example, 
the  percentage  of  blonds  and  brunets 
in  local  populations  in  Italy, 
Switzerland,  Germany,  and  Sweden. 

It  seems  probable  that  color  variation 

in  gibbons  may  play  a  role  in  territorial 

relationships  between  adjacent  troops. 

It  is  known  that  in  some  gibbons 

self-display  is  an  important  part  of 

establishing  territorial  rights.  This  is 

evident  in  a  report  published  by  the 

American  primatologist  John  Ellefson, 

who  studied  wild  populations  of  H. 

lar  lar  in  Malaya  for  about  eighteen 


Adult  males  (from  neighboring  troops]  in  a 
conflict  hang  by  one  arm  and  swing  back 
and  forth,  and  twist  around  360  degrees  in 
either  direction  without  changing  the  hand 
grip;  they  change  hands  every  few  seconds; 
they  appear  to  be  making  themselves 
conspicuous,  advertising  their  position.  They 
look  in  all  directions  and  conflict-hoo  [a 
characteristic  vocalizationl  as  they  swing 
and  dangle. 

It  may  only  be  coincidence,  but  territorial 
vocalizations  are  also  prominent  in  the 
behavior  of  South  American  howler 
monkeys,  which  constitute  one  of  the 
few  other  primate  groups  that  exhibit 
coat  color  sexual  dimorphism.  Perhaps 
vocalization  and  coat  color  display  are 
functionally  interrelated  forms  of 
territorial  behavior. 

It  also  appears  probable  that  color 
variation  in  gibbons  may  be 
significantly  related  to  differences  in 
troop  size.  The  French  zoologist  Pierre 
Pfeffer  recently  reported  that  troops  of 
the  sexually  dimorphic  lar  pileatus 
subspecies  that  he  observed  in 

Bulletin     June  1971 

Painting  In  Osaka  Fine  Arts  Gallery  entitled  Ch'u-yiian-fu,  "Picture  of  a  group  of  gibbons," 

by  I  Yiian-chi,  lltfi  century,  done  on  a  fiorizontal  silk  scroll  about  30  cm.  fiigfi  and 

120  cm.  long.    Printed  by  permission  of  Municipal  Gallery  of  Fine  Art,  Osaka,  Japan. 

Cambodia  were  very  much  smaller  than 
troops  of  the  monomorphic  moloch 
species  in  Borneo.  If  these  two  groups 
of  gibbons  differ  in  troop  size,  they 
probably  also  differ  In  the  Internal  social 
organization  of  troops.  Color  variation 
may  well  function  as  some  sort  of  social 
signal  within  a  troop. 

Another  intriguing  fact  Is  that  coat  color 
is  related  to  mate  selection  in  asexually 
dimorphic  gibbons.  Gibbons  of  the 
agilis  species  in  Sumatra  tend  to  select 
mates  with  coat  colors  opposite  to  their 
own.  In  almost  all  troops  in  this 
species,  blond  adult  males  are  mated 
to  brunet  adult  females,  and  brunet 
males  are  mated  to  blond  females. 
But  in  the  lar  entelloides  subspecies, 
the  situation  apparently  Is  exactly  the 
reverse.  In  the  vast  majority  of  troops 
observed  by  myself  and  others  in 
Thailand,  mated  pairs  were  either  both 
blond  or  both  brunet.  In  sexually 
dimorphic  groups  (concolor,  hoolock, 
and  lar  pileatus)  males  and  females  are 
of  course  oppositely  colored  In  all 
matlngs  because  all  adult  males  are 
brunet  and  all  adult  females  are  blond. 

Dr.  Robert  van  Gulick's  book  The  Gibbon 
in  China,  mentioned  earlier,  provides 
western  zoologists  with  previously 
unavailable  evidence  concerning  the 
probable  past  distribution  of  gibbons  In 
eastern  China,  far  beyond  their  present 
geographic  range.  This  versatile  Dutch 
diplomat's  systematic  search  for 
references  to  gibbons  in  ancient 
Chinese  literature  and  art  covered  the 
period  from  1500  B.C.  to  the  end  of  the 
ivling  dynasty  (A.D.  1644).  His  research 

indicates  that  as  late  as  1 ,000  years  ago 
gibbons  ranged  northeastward  in  China 
as  far  as  the  Yellow  River,  southwest  of 
Peking,  which  Is  about  800  miles 
northeast  of  their  present  northern  limit 
of  distribution.  The  disappearance  of 
gibbons  In  China  during  historic  times 
presumably  is  the  result  of  deforestation 
of  their  habitat,  which  Is  correlated  in 
China,  as  elsewhere,  with  development 
of  advanced  agricultural  civilization. 

The  early  depictions  of  Chinese  gibbons 
in  scroll  paintings  are  lifelike,  detailed, 
and  apparently  zoologically  accurate. 
To  judge  from  these  paintings,  the 
gibbon  that  formerly  Inhabited  eastern 
China  was  agilis,  the  asexually 
dimorphic  species  now  confined  to 
Sumatra  and  northwestern  Ivlalaya, 
1 ,000  miles  south  of  China.  If  this 
identification  Is  correct,  the  puzzling 
geographic  history  of  asexually 
dimorphic  H.  agilis  Is  one  more  element 
that  eventually  will  have  to  be 
incorporated  into  a  comprehensive 
account  of  the  evolution  of  coat  color 
variation  in  gibbons. 

Although  the  direction  of  gibbon  coat 
color  evolution  now  seems  fairly  clear, 
at  present  we  are  still  a  long  way  from 
understanding  the  possible  function  of 
color  variation  and  the  forces  of  natural 
selection  that  may  be  responsible  for  its 
evolution.  Perhaps  future  comparative 
study  of  the  behavior  of  gibbon  troops 
which  represent  different  categories  of 
color  variation  may  help  to  clear  up 
some  of  the  unresolved  problems.  Of 
course  we  can  anticipate  that  new 
answers  will  In  turn  open  up  new 

questions.  But  that  is  part  of  what 
keeps  museum  zoologists  interested  in 
the  study  of  animals  and  their  evolution. 


Comte  George  Louis  Leclerc  de  Buffon. 
Histoire  Naturelle,  vol.  14.  Paris:  1766. 

Jotin  Oscar  Ellefson.  "A  Natural  History  of 
Gibbons  in  the  Malay  Peninsula."  Ph.D. 
dissertation,  University  of  California, 
Berkeley,  1967. 

Jack  Fooden.  "Color-Phase  in  Gibbons,"  in 
Evolution,  vol.  23,  no.  4,  December  30,  1969, 
pp.  627-644. 

Jack  Fooden.  "Report  on  Primates  Collected 
in  Western  Thailand,  January-April,  1967." 
Fieldiana:  Zoology,  vol.  59,  no.  1,  March  31, 

R.  H.  van  Gulick,  Litt.D.  The  Gibbon  in 
China — An  Essay  in  Chinese  Animal  Lore. 
Leiden,  Holland:  E.  J.  Brill,  1967,  released 

Pierre  Pfetfer.  "Considerations  sur 
I'Ecologie-lorets  Claires  du  Cambodge 
Oriental,"  in  La  Terre  et  la  Vie,  no.  1, 
1969.  pp.  3-24. 

Dr.  Jack  Fooden  is  research  associate  at 
Field  Museum  and  professor  of  zoology  at 
Chicago  State  College. 

Bulletin     June  1971 

Were  you  here? 

Members'  Nights 

May  6  and  7 

7,205  members  were. 

Photos  by 

Ray  Burley 


Fred  Huysmans 

Bulletin     June  1971 

Forward  and  backward  glances 

Construction,  May  11,  1917. 

May  2,  1971  marked  the  fiftieth 
anniversary  of  the  opening  of  Field 
Museum's  present  building  to  the 
public.  The  Museum  had  moved  the 
year  before  from  its  first  home,  the 
Palace  of  Fine  Arts  Building  in 
Jackson  Park,  erected  for  the  World 
Columbian  Exposition  of  1893.  The 
moving  operation  had  been  both  unique 
and  somewhat  spectacular  because  of 
its  size  and  the  nature  of  the  material. 
When  before  had  anyone  seen  the  head 
of  an  elephant  riding  rampant  on  the 
deck  of  a  railroad  flat  car?  The  vast 
collections,  exhibits,  and  library  had 
been  transferred  to  a  substantial, 
carefully  designed  and  elegant  new 
home  that  fully  expressed  the  ideals, 
dreams,  and  best  judgment  of 
experienced  museum  officers  and  staff. 

Three  days  before,  Carl  Sandburg,  in  an 
article  in  the  Da/7y  News,  had  written 
under  the  title  "World  Wonders  are  in 
Field  Museum:" 

The  navy  recruiting  slogan  for  young  men 
is,  "See  the  World."  An  older  admonition  is, 
"See  Rome  and  die."  But  the  one  heard 
most  often  in  this  country  in  recent  years 
is,  "See  America  first."  Before  starting, 
however,  to  see  either  the  world  or  Rome 
or  America  first,  a  few  good  long  trips 
around  the  Field  Museum  are  worth  while. 
The  museum  has  a  number  of  specimens 
and  articles  rather  difficult  to  find  even  in 
a  trip  around  the  world.  Also  there  are  a 
few  bits  of  paraphernalia  not  to  be  found 
anywhere  in  whatsoever  rambles  a  tourist 
might  choose  to  make  between  the  equator 
and  either  of  the  poles. 

The  8,000  or  more  people  who  visited 
the  Museum  on  May  2,  1921,  journeyed 
over  unpaved  roads,  cinder  paths,  and 
board  walks  to  a  magnificent  white 
marble  building  set  apart  in  a  kind  of 
no-man's  land  surrounded  by 
hummocks  of  ungraded  fill  containing 
a  great  deal  of  trash  and  populated  by 
a  fair  number  of  rodents.  There  were 
no  other  buildings.  Shedd  Aquarium, 
Soldier  Field,  and  Adier  Planetarium 
came  much  later. 

On  opening  day  the  exhibits  were 
essentially  the  same  in  appearance  as 
when  on  view  in  the  Jackson  Park 
building.  Case  interiors  were  black  and 
crowded  with  specimens;  exhibition 
labels  were  black  with  silver  gray 
lettering.  There  was  a  variety  of 
furniture,  some  of  which  was  obsolete 
even  then.  There  seemed  to  be  a  vast 
amount  of  space.  Some  departments 
fitted  rather  loosely  in  the  area  assigned 
to  them.  The  large  exhibition  halls  were 
intended  for  daylight  illumination. 
Alternate  interior  halls  on  the  first  floor 
had  glass  skylight  ceilings.  There  was 
no  individual  case  lighting.  On  dark 
days  ceiling  fixtures  hardly  dispelled  the 
gloom  as  black  case  interiors  absorbed 
all  available  light.  There  were  no 
built-in  habitat  groups  or  exhibition 

But  almost  as  soon  as  the  spacious 
building  was  occupied,  things  placed 

There  were  no  other  buildings.  Shedd  Aquarium,  Soldier  Field,  and  AdIer  Planetarium  came 
much  later. 


Bulletin     June  1971 

John  R.  Millar 

according  to  plan,  and  the  Museum 
once  more  open  to  visitors,  a  new  and 
vigorous  growth  began  like  that  of  a 
seedling  tree  in  spring.  There  ensued 
a  period  of  unusually  active  field  and 
expeditionary  work  in  all  departments 
made  possible  by  an  enlarged  scientific 
and  preparatory  staff  and  the  generous 
financial  support  of  a  number  of 
individuals,  especially  tvlr.  Stanley  Field, 
president,  Mr.  Marshall  Field  III,  and 
other  trustees  of  the  Museum.  Central 
and  South  America,  Africa  and  Asia,  as 
well  as  various  areas  of  the  United 
States  and  subarctic  Canada  were  the 
locale  of  numerous  expeditions  that 
resulted  in  large  scientific  collections 
as  well  as  studies  and  specimens  for 
exhibition.  With  this  impetus  an 
accelerated  program  in  all  manner  of 
Museum  activities  followed — research, 
publication  of  scientific  reports, 
exhibitions  and  education — that 
continues  to  the  present. 

Along  the  way  numerous  changes  have 
been  made  in  the  physical  plant,  in 
storage  facilities  and  in  exhibits.  The 
ground  floor,  which  was  largely  earthen 
and  unpaved  in  1921,  was  completed 
and  made  into  exhibition  halls,  storage 
and  work  areas.  The  flow  of  steam  for 
heating  was  radically  rerouted  by 
moving  the  main  pipes  from  the  ground 
floor  to  the  third  floor  to  obtain  a  more 
even  distribution  of  heat  and  to  rid  the 
newly  created  exhibition  halls  of 
unsightly  pipes.  With  the  exception  of 
Stanley  Field  Hall,  all  skylights  in 
exhibition  halls  have  been  covered  and 
nearly  all  windows  closed.  Exhibits 
were  then  individually  lighted.  Even  this 
change  went  by  stages  beginning  with 
incandescent  lamps,  followed  through 
the  years  by  various  kinds  of  fluorescent 
lights  as  technological  developments 
in  industry  made  better  lamps  available. 
Now  inadequate,  obsolete  wiring  limits 
progress  in  further  improvements  that 
require  more  electrical  power. 

The  continuing  effort  of  the  staff  to 
improve  the  content,  organization,  and 

When  before  had  anyone  seen  the  head  of  an  elephant  riding  rampant  on  the  deck  of  a 
railroad  flat  car? 

appearance  of  exhibits  has  produced 
many  changes.  There  is  no  exhibition 
hall  in  the  Museum  that  has  not  been 
renovated  at  least  once  since  opening 
day;  some  have  been  revised  several 
times.  Four  large  halls  have  been 
cleared,  the  material  retired  or 
transferred  to  other  halls,  and  the  space 
vacated  is  being  used  for  work  areas, 
the  storage  of  study  collections,  and  for 
temporary  exhibits.  The  result  has  been 
the  creation  of  a  number  of  exhibits  for 
which  the  Museum  is  world  famous. 
Likewise  study  collections  and  library 
resources  have  grown  to  an  importance 
and  usefulness  that  compel 
consideration  as  source  material  by 
students  and  researchers  in  several 
areas  of  the  biological  sciences  and 
anthropology.  Published  reports  based 
on  studies  of  Museum  materials  have 
added  much  to  knowledge  of  our  world 
as  it  was,  is,  and  conceivably  as  it  may 

Anniversaries  invite  forward  as  well  as 

backward  glances  whether  they  are 
taken  singly  as  annual  reports  or  in 
decades  or  multiples  thereof  for  the 
longer  view.  The  slogan  of  the  fiftieth 
anniversary  of  the  founding  of  the 
Museum  in  1893  was,  "A  living  museum 
is  a  growing  museum."  Growth  in  a 
museum  implies  change,  certain  kinds 
of  institutional  "growing  pains,"  and 
outmoding  of  vesture.  A  living  museum 
is  never  finished.  It  serves  its 
community  and  the  natural  sciences  as 
no  other  social  institution  can  and  to 
continue  this  service  is  the  purpose  and 
function  of  Field  Museum  of  Natural 

John  R.  Millar  is  lormer  deputy  director  ol 
Field  Museum  arid  lormer  chief  curator  of 
botany.   He  joined  the  Field  Museum  stall  in 
1918.  Although  now  retired,  he  works  as  a 
volunteer  in  the  care  ol  the  economic 
collections  in  the  Department  of  Botany. 

Bulletin     June  1971 



campo  del  cielo 


When  the  early  Spanish  settlers  slowly 
pushed  their  way  Into  the  Gran  Chaco 
region  of  north-central  Argentina,  some 
of  them  encountered  huge  masses  of 
meteoritic  iron  scattered  over  a  large 
area.  The  first  written  report  mentioning 
the  find  was  in  1576  by  Hernan  Mexia 
de  Miraval,  who  had  found  a  mass  that 
weighed  about  one  ton.  Much  later,  in 
1788,  Don  Rubin  de  Cells  wrote  of 
finding  a  huge  mass  that  he  estimated 
to  be  about  15  tons.  So  it  went  through 
the  18th,  19th,  and  on  into  the  20th 
centuries,  piece  after  piece  being  found. 
Pieces  over  a  ton  were  seen  and 
found  fairly  readily,  but  as  time  went  on 
the  newer  finds  were  generally  of 
pieces  in  the  range  of  several  hundred 
pounds.  The  last  piece  of  any  size  was 
found  in  1937 — and  little  of  any 
consequence  has  been  found  since.  As 
is  the  practice  with  meteorites,  all  these 
pieces,  which  are  the  broken  parts  of 
a  single,  prehistoric  fall,  have  been 
named  after  the  local  region  where  they 
were  found — Campo  del  Cielo,  "field 
of  heaven"  in  Spanish. 

In  1966  and  1967  Drs.  Theodore  Bunch 
and  William  Cassidy,  both  of  the 
National  Aeronautics  and  Space 
Administration,  visited  the  region  with 
modern  metal-detecting  equipment. 
They  located  three  additional  large 
pieces,  which  were  buried  from  view 
under  the  soil.  These  were  excavated 
and  one  of  them,  weighing  103  pounds, 
was  crated  and  shipped  to  the 
United  States. 

To  do  any  research  at  all  on  a  meteorite 
specimen  it  is  necessary  to  cut  it  open 
and  grind  flat  surfaces.  Very  little 
useful  information  can  be  gained  from 
the  outside  alone.  With  any  large  piece 
of  iron  there  is  always  the  problem  of 
how  to  cut  it.  Since  most  meteorite 
specimens  are  under  50  pounds, 
laboratory  sawing  equipment  is  usually 
small.  During  a  meeting  in  Virginia  in 
October  of  1970  Dr.  Bunch  asked  me  if 
the  Field  Museum  had  large  enough 
equipment  to  cut  slices  from  an  iron  of 
this  size.  We  don't.  But  we  thought 

Edward  J.  Olson 

International  Harvester  Co.  machinery 
slices  the  Campo  del  Cielo  meteorite. 

possibly  the  Chicago-based 
International  Harvester  Co.  might  be 
willing  to  cut  it  in  their  shops  where 
they  frequently  slice  large  metal  stock 
prior  to  machining. 

The  question  was  put  to  Museum 
Director  E.  Leiand  Webber  and  he 
contacted  Mr.  Harry  Bercher, 
chairman  of  the  board  of  International 
Harvester.  They  agreed  immediately. 
Last  March  we  received  the  crated  iron 
meteorite  at  the  Museum,  marked  it  for 
the  cuts,  and  sent  it  on  to  Harvester's 
plant  in  Hinsdale,  Illinois. 

Slicing  up  meteoritic  iron  is  generally 
a  bit  tougher  than  slicing  man-made 
steels.  Steels  are  usually  chemically 
compounded  (alloyed)  to  make  them 
harder  and  somewhat  more  brittle  than 
meteoritic  iron.  Also,  steels  are  made 
of  numerous  microscopic  metal  crystals. 
Iron  meteorites,  however,  commonly 
consist  of  only  a  single  huge  metal 
crystal,  which  causes  them  to  be  more 
tenacious  than  steels.  Consequently 
meteorites  cannot  be  cut  quite  as  fast 
as  man-made  steel.  As  a  rough 
comparison,  it  is  like  the  difference 
between  hand-sawing  a  wet  board  as 
opposed  to  sawing  through  a  crisp,  dry 

A  large  band  saw  with  hardened  steel 

blades  was  used  first,  but  the  meteorite 
wore  out  several  such  blades.  Then  a 
switch  was  made  to  a  super-hard 
carbide-tipped  blade,  which  completed 
the  job  nicely.  We  got  two  good  flat 
slices  from  the  middle  plus  the  two  end 
pieces.  The  slices  were  machined 
smooth  on  one  side  so  they  can  be 
polished  and  acid-etched  for  study. 

Normally  an  iron  meteorite  does  not 
excite  so  much  effort.  This  one  has 
become  a  subject  of  interest  because  it 
is  not  just  another  common  iron 
meteorite.  Several  years  ago  it  was 
found  that  some  portions  of  Campo  del 
Cielo  contained,  within  the  metal, 
masses  of  stony  material  which  are  not 
like  the  stony  matter  that  makes  up 
most  stone  meteorites.  Whenever  there 
is  the  chance  of  uncovering  something 
different  from  other  parts  of  our  solar 
system  the  extra  effort  is  well 
worthwhile,  so  this  mass  of  iron  was  cut 
with  the  hope  it  would  contain  some 
of  those  unusual  foreign  inclusions. 
We  were  pleased  to  see  as  the  slices 
came  off  that  each  one  contained  two 
large  stony  masses. 

The  pieces  of  Campo,  as  the  meteorite 
is  fondly  called,  are  now  going  to 
permanent  homes.  One  end  piece  and 
one  slice  will  be  returned  to  Dr.  Bunch 
at  the  NASA  center  in  Moffett  Field, 
California.  One  end  piece  will  go  to 
Dr.  Cassidy  at  the  University  of 
Pittsburgh,  where  he  is  now  located. 
And  one  slice  will  stay  here  in  the 
growing  meteorite  collection  of  the 
Field  Museum,  as  a  gift  "for  services 
rendered."  The  most  important  services 
were,  of  course,  rendered  by 
International  Harvester  Co.,  and  Field 
Museum  owes  them  a  debt  of  gratitude 
for  their  skillful  help. 

Dr.  Edward  J.  Olsen  is  curator  ot  mineralogy 
in  the  Department  ot  Geology  at  Field 


Bulletin     June  1971 

:;  I 



The  Year  of  the  Seal 

By  Victor  B.  Scheffer.  New  York,  Charles 
Scribner's  Sons,  1970.  205  pp.  $7.95. 

The  Year  of  the  Seal  is  a  month-by-month 
chronicle  ot  birth;  growth  rate;  maternal 
care;  breeding;  behavior  of  mature  bulls, 
young  bachelors,  mothers,  and  pups; 
feeding  habits  of  mature  seals;  and  herd 
social  hierarchy. 

The  story  begins  in  July  with  the  arrival  of 
the  "Golden  Seal,"  a  female  with  a  rare 
yellowish  coat  who  has  come  to  bear  her 
pup  and  to  breed  again,  like  thousands  of 
other  Alaska  fur  seals,  on  St.  Paul  Island, 
the  most  northerly  of  the  Pribilof  Chain. 

A  few  days  after  the  whelping,  the  females 
are  ready  to  breed  again  with  the  mature 
bulls  who  had  returned  to  the  rookeries  in 
June  to  fight  for  breeding  territory  and  await 
their  harem.  The  pups  remain  on  the  island 
until  November,  as  do  their  mothers,  who 
until  then  leave  only  for  periodic  hunting 
trips  in  the  Bering  Sea. 

The  Golden  Seal  migrates  southward  in 

November  and  remains  at  sea  until  her 
return  to  St.  Paul  Island  to  begin  the  annual 
cycle  anew.  Her  pup  and  other  yearlings, 
no  longer  sheltered  by  adults,  set  out  to  sea 
on  their  own.  The  seven  months  from 
December  through  June  are  covered  by  an 
account  of  the  adaptive  characters  of  seals 
which  enable  them  to  survive  and  reproduce: 
the  delayed  implantation  of  the  fertilized 
egg;  the  migratory  route  of  the  Golden  Seal; 
the  fish  she  eats;  and  the  predatory  sharks, 
killer  whales,   and  humans  she  meets 
and  fears. 

The  background  is  filled  with  interesting 
facts  about  commercial  sealing,  naturalists 
who  devote  their  lives  to  the  study  of  seals, 
the  role  of  the  government  in  controlling 
the  seal  fisheries,  and  the  history  of  native 
Pribilof  Islanders,  whose  lives  are  bound  up 
in  sealing  under  the  watchful  eyes  of  the 
United  States  Fish  and  Wildlife  Service. 

An  excellent  map  on  the  inside  cover  shows 
breeding  sites  and  migratory  routes  to  aid 
the  reader  in  following  the  story.  The 
line-drawing  text  figures  are  adequate,  but 
photographs  of  the  seals  and  their  rookeries 
would  have  been  welcome.  An  appendix 
includes  a  brief  history  of  seals,  their  origin 
and  evolution,  and  a  selected  bibliography. 
The  comprehensive  index  provides  quick 
access  to  a  wealth  of  information  on  seals. 

The  author  is  an  outstanding  authority  on 
marine  mammals.  Although  guilty  of  some 
anthropomorphisms,  he  uses  the  facts — 
many  of  them  of  his  own  discovery — to 
weave  a  sound,  sober,  highly  readable, 
fascinating,  and  factual  story  designed  for 
the  layman. 

by  Barbara  Brown,  volunteer  assistant, 
Division  of  Mammals,  Field  Museum. 

The  White  Dawn 

By  James  Houston.   New  York,  Harcourt, 
Brace,  Jovanovich,  1971.  275  pp.  $6.95. 

James  Houston's  novel  about  Eskimos  and 
one  early,  tragic  contact  with  white  men  is 
an  exciting,  moving  tale  set  along  the 
isolated,  windswept  coast  of  Baffin  Island, 
where  the  author  served  the  Canadian 
government  as  an  area  administrator  for 
many  years.  . 

The  narrative  begins  with  extracts  from  the 
log  of  a  New  England  whaling  ship  that 
describe  how,  on  a  spring  day  in  1896, 
several  men  in  a  small  boat  become  missing 
while  being  towed  by  a  harpooned  whale. 
The  scene  then  shifts  to  the  winter  camp  of 
a  band  of  Eskimos  who  are  excited  and 
amazed  by  the  arrival  of  three  strangers, 
who  are  near  death  from  starvation  and 
exposure.  The  families  in  this  camp,  led  by 
the  elderly  and  strong-willed  Sarkak,  a 
renowned  hunter,  have  heard  of  such 
foreigners,  whom  they  believe  to  be 
descended  from  dogs,  but  most  have  never 
before  seen  such  wondrous  beings.  The 
three  whalers,  a  sensitive  white  officer,  a 
black  harpooner  and  a  hot-tempered  white 
seaman,  are  nursed  back  to  health  and 
gradually  accepted  into  the  small  community 
of  igloos. 

Houston's  absorbing  novel,  a  Book-of-the- 
Month  Club  selection,  is  based  on  actual 
events  which  have  become  part  of  Eskimo 
folklore.  Avinga,  a  crippled  member  of  the 
camp  who  thus  cannot  participate  fully  in 
an  Eskimo  man's  arduous  activities,  tells 
the  story.   Since  the  Eskimos  cannot 
understand  their  language,  the  white 
strangers  are  presented  only  as  the  Eskimos 
see  them  and  as  Avinga  recounts  the  tale. 
Yet  their  personalities  emerge  as  we  see 
them  through  Eskimo  eyes  and  as  they 

clash,  out  of  ignorance,  with  Eskimo 

At  first,  all  goes  well  as  the  whalers,  each 
in  his  own  way,  attempt  to  adjust  to  this 
new,  difficult  and,  at  times,  totally  mysterious 
life.  They  form  liaisons  with  willing  young 
girls  and  this  is  encouraged  by  Eskimo 
hospitality.  Eventually,  however, 
misunderstanding  and  distrust  arise  out  of 
the  pride,  greed  and  lust  of  both  Eskimos 
and  whites.  Once  these  forces  are  freed, 
the  protagonists  careen  toward  inevitable 
destruction  as  carefully  balanced 
interpersonal  relations  disintegrate  and 
basic  conflicts  between  the  two  cultures  are 

The  compelling  narrative  is  set  against  a 
background  of  Eskimo  life  on  Baffin  Island 
that  is  authentic  in  virtually  every  detail. 
You  experience  the  isolated,  self-sufficient 
world  of  the  Eskimos  and  rapidly  come  to 
appreciate  the  precarious  nature  of  their 
existence  as  they  move  from  spring  to  fall 
to  winter  camps  in  a  never-ending  search 
for  food.   Hunting  techniques,  the  facts  of 
life  and  death,  entertainment  and  religious 
ceremonialism,  all  are  woven  skillfully  into 
the  story. 

At  intervals,  the  artist-author  (who 
introduced  the  successful  marketing  of 
Eskimo  stone-carvings  to  Canadian  and 
American  cities,  to  augment  the  income  of 
needy  Eskimo  villages)  provides  accurate 
drawings  of  Eskimo  artifacts  as  they  appear 
in  the  story.  Through  his  narrator,  a 
sympathetic  and  sensitive  young  man, 
Houston  not  only  evokes  the  Eskimo 
life-style,  but  creates  the  special  atmosphere 
of  a  culture  where  man  and  nature  exist  in 
harmonious  balance. 

James  Houston  has  given  us  a  dramatic 
novel — but  his  achievement  is  greater  than 
that.  He  has  created  a  vibrant  microcosm 
within  which  his  characters,  Eskimos  and 
whites,  enact  to  the  bitter  end  the  tragic 
consequences  of  culture-contact  whenever 
it  has  occurred.  For  this  little  band  of 
Eskimos,  as  it  was  for  all  the  native 
peoples  of  North  America,  the  "white  dawn" 
truly  meant  the  beginning  of  the  end  for 
respected  values  and  meaningful  life-ways 
that  were  as  cherished  and  deeply  rooted 
as  life  itself. 

by  Dr.  James  Van  Stone,  chairman, 
Department  ot  Anthropology,  Field  Museum. 

Reprinted  with  permission  from  the  Chicago  Daily 

Bulletin     June  1971 


Hugo  J.  Melvoin  Elected  Trustee 

Prominent  Chicago  attorney  Hugo  J. 
Melvoin,  a  partner  in  the  law  firm  of  Mayer, 
Brown  &  Piatt,  has  been  elected  a  Trustee 
of  Field  Museum.   Remick  McDowell, 
Museum  president,  made  the  announcement 
following  a  recent  meeting  of  the  Board  of 

Mr.  Melvoin  received  his  L.L.B.  from  Harvard 
Law  School  in  1953,  where  he  was  winner 
of  the  James  Barr  Ames  award.   He  is  a 
1950  honors  graduate  in  accounting  from 
the  University  of  Illinois. 

Active  in  national,  state,  and  local  bar 
associations,  Mr.  Melvoin  is  a  member  of 
the  Executive  Council  of  the  Chicago  Bar 

Hugo  J.  Melvoin 

Association  Committee  on  Federal  Taxation 
and  vice  chairman  of  Division  A,  dealing 
with  estate  and  gift  taxes  and  related 

In  addition,  Mr.  Melvoin  lectures  to  bar 
associations  and  tax  conferences,  including 
the  University  of  Chicago  Tax  Conference, 
the  Illinois  Institute  for  Continuing  Legal 
Education,  and  De  Paul  University,  and 
writes  articles  for  law  reviews.  He  is  a 
member  of  Beta  Gamma  Sigma,  commerce 
honorary  fraternity. 

Field  Museum  Building  Fifty  Years  Old 

""."I"'  '""r  i. 

k"'!  mg,  M.,  2,  m 
oloblished  in  1893, 

«i>iy  Field  Museum 


Floyd  Catten^  0,  Illinois  and  Darrell  Sutton  of  East  Moline,  Illinois  accept  congratulations  from 

Museum  Director  fc.  Leiand  Webber  (right)  upon  winning  free  memberships  in  Field  Museum. 

Field  Museum  celebrated  the  fiftieth 
birthday  of  its  present  building  recently  with 
a  public  birthday  party  in  Stanley  Field  Hall. 
A  giant  seven-tiered  cake,  a  gift  from  Burny 
Bros.,  was  enjoyed  by  Museum  visitors  and 
ten  free  memberships  were  awarded  through 
a  drawing. 

Mr.  David  Goldberg  of  Benton  Harbor, 
Michigan,  whose  name  was  drawn  first, 
became  the  64,397,029th  visitor  to  the 
present  building,  which  opened  its  doors  to 
the  public  on  May  2,  1921.  The  nine  other 
people  to  win  free  memberships  to  the 
Museum  are:  Mrs.  James  Barushok, 
Evanston,  Illinois;  Terri  Castleberry,  Joliet, 
Illinois;  Floyd  Catterton,  Moline,  Illinois; 
Antonio  Cuevas,  Chicago,  Illinois;  Kitty 
Petry,  Delphi,  Indiana;  Reed  Scudder,  San 
Francisco,  California;  Darrell  Leon  Sutton, 
East  Moline,  Illinois;  Lisa  Simonson, 
Chicago,  Illinois;  and  Duane  H.  Willhard, 
Springfield,  Ohio. 

An  article  by  John  Millar,  former  deputy 
director  and  former  chief  curator  of  botany, 
recalling  the  past  fifty  years  in  the  present 
Museum  building,  is  featured  in  this  issue 
of  the  Bulletin. 

NSF  Grant  for  Teacher  Training 

Field  Museum  has  been  awarded  a  grant  of 
$47,200  from  the  National  Science 
Foundation  for  support  of  a  program  entitled 
"Instructional  Use  of  Community 
Resources."   Its  purpose  is  to  help  thirty 
teachers  from  Chicago  public  schools 
design  curricula  that  make  use  of  Museum 
exhibits  as  resources. 

School  use  of  Field  Museum  facilities  is 
increasing,  and  both  new  and  experienced 
teachers  feel  a  growing  need  to  learn  how 
they  can  interpret  the  Museum's  exhibits  to 
their  classes,  and  how  their  field  trips  to 
the  Museum  can  be  made  an  integral  part 
of  their  curricula.   Field  Museum  is 
assuming  leadership  in  training  teachers  to 
prepare  pre-  and  post-field-trip  instruction 
that  uses  visual  aids,  written  materials,  and 
actual  objects  or  models  of  specimens 
from  the  Museum. 

The  participating  teachers  will  be  selected 
jointly  by  Museum  staff  and  Chicago  public 
school  administration  personnel.  Donald  C. 
Edinger,  chairman  of  the  Museum's 
Department  of  Education,  will  direct  the 
six-week  workshop  program,  which  begins 
June  28. 


Bulletin     June  1971 

Successful  Bid  for  Museum  Associate  IMembershlp 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  William  J.  Puda,  successful  bidders  for  tfie  Museum  associate  membership  auctioned  recently  on 
WTTW-TV.  learn  fiow  plant  material  is  prepared  for  tfie  herbarium  from  Botany  herbarium  assistant  Ronald 
Liesner  (left).   The  occasion  was  Members'  Nights,  the  once-a-year  opportunity  when  all  members  of  the 
Museum  can  go  behind  the  scenes  into  the  scientific  research  areas.   The  associate  membership  auctioned  on 
television  was  the  gift  of   Mr.    Edward  J.   De  Witt  of   Chicago.     It   extends   membership   benefits   for   life   to 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Puda. 

professor  o(  zoology,  Chicago  State  College. 
Publication  Number  1123.  $3.00 

Fieldiana  is  a  continuitig  series  of  scientific 
papers  and  monograpfis  dealing  with 
anthropology,  botany,  geology,  and  zoology 
published  by  Field  Museum.   Prices  cited 
above  do  not  reflect  the  30  percent  discount 
available  to  Members  of  the  Museum. 
Publication  Number  should  be  used  when 

New  Membership  Rates 

Effective  July  1,  new  Museum  membership 
rates  will  be  $15  for  annual  membership 
and  $150  for  associate  membership.  This 
is  the  first  increase  in  membership  fees 
since  the  founding  of  the  Museum  in  1893. 

Persons  who  are  presently  members  may 
renew  annual  membership  for  one  year  at 
the  current  rate  of  $10  or  may  obtain  a 
permanent  associate  membership  at  the 
current  rate  of  $100  up  until  December  31. 
The  life  membership  rate  will  remain  at 
$500  and  contributor  membership  at  $1 .000. 

Museum  membership  now  totals  20,189. 

Children  to  Hunt  Dinosaurs 

A  Dinosaur  Hunt  is  the  Summer  Journey  for 
Boys  and  Girls  this  year.  Perhaps  no  more 
fascinating  prehistoric  creatures  ever  lived 
on  Earth  than  the  dinosaurs.  They  roamed 
every  continent  but  Antarctica  between  about 
200  million  years  ago  and  about  65  million 
years  ago,  and  ranged  in  size  from  the 
largest  land-dwelling  animals  to  no  bigger 
than  a  chicken.  Not  all  are  represented  in 
the  Museum,  of  course. 

The  Journey  is  designed  to  let  youngsters 
try  to  find  those  we  do  have,  either  as  actual 
fossils  or  in  the  Charles  Knight  paintings  in 
Hall  38.  A  question  sheet  gives  the 
necessary  clues  by  describing  significant 
features  of  each  animal.  When  the  youngster 
then  locates  the  fossil  or  painting,  he  can 
answer  the  questions  by  studying  the 
specimen  or  painting. 

"Dinosaur  Hunt"  is  Journey  number  66  in  a 
series  which  the  Museum  and  the  Raymond 
Foundation  began  in  the  spring  of  1955. 
After  a  child  successfully  completes  a  series 
of  four  Journeys,  he  or  she  is  presented  with 
an  award  at  a  special  program  the  Museum 
holds  each  spring.  Write  to  the  Museum's 
Education  Department  for  more  information 
about  the  Journey  program  and  awards. 

This  summer's  Journey  runs  from  June  1  to 
August  31.  Journey  question  sheets  may  be 
picked  up  at  both  the  north  and  south 
entrances  and  at  the  information  booth  near 

the  north  door.  When  completed,  the 
question  sheet  should  be  deposited  in 
marked  receptacles  near  the  north  or  south 
doors.  There  is  no  charge  for  taking  any  of 
the  Museum  Journeys. 

New  Fieldiana  Publications 

The  following  issues  of  Fieldiana  have  been 
recently  published  and  are  available  for 
purchase  from  the  Museum's  Publications 

Botany:  Volume  34,  No.  2.  "Re-evaluation 
of  Syagrus  loetgrenii  Glassman  and  S. 
racltidii  Glassman,"  S.  F.  Glassman, 
professor  of  biological  sciences.  University 
of  Illinois  at  Chicago  Circle  and  research 
associate.  Field  Museum.   Publication 
Number  1122.  $1.00. 

Geology:  Volume  23,  No.  2. 
"Amphispongieae,  A  New  Tribe  of  Paleozoic 
Dasycladaceous  Algae,"  Matthew  H.  Nitecki, 
associate  curator  of  fossil  invertebrates. 
Field  Museum.  Publication  Number  1124. 

Zoology:  Volume  59,  No.  1 .  "Report  on 
Primates  Collected  in  Western  Thailand, 
January — April,  1967,"  Jack  Fooden, 
research  associate.  Field  Museum  and 

CNA  Foundation  Support  for 
Afro-American  Exhibit 

Visiting  Afro-American  Style  from  The  Design  Works 
of  Bedford-Stuyvesant  exhibit  in  the  Museum's  Hall 
9  are  from  left  E.  Leiand  Webber,  director  of  Field 
Museum;  David  Christensen,  executive  director  of 
CNA  Foundation  and  vice  president  of  CNA  Financial 
Corporation;  Mark  Bethel,  president  of  The  Design 
Works;  Remick  McDowell,  president  of  Field 
Museum;  and  Anthony  Jackson,  a  director  of  CNA 
Foundation  and  staff  assistant  to  director  of 
personnel,  CNA/lnsurance. 

Silk-screened  textiles  produced  by  The  Design 
Works,  a  new  community-rooted  company  in 
Brooklyn,  are  exhibited  in  conjunction  with  African 
art  from  the  Museum's  famous  Benin  collection 
which  inspired  many  of  the  textile  designs.  CNA 
Foundation  provided  financial  assistance  in  support 
of  the  exhibit. 

Bulletin    June  1971 



To  the  editor; 

In  the  1 0  years  we  have  belonged  to  the 
Field  Museum  I  am  sure  that  I've  nodded 
off  reading  the  Bulletin  many  times. 

Not  so  with  the  May  Issue!  It's  great! 

The  new  format  is  excellent— contemporary 
while  much  more  readable.  The  content 
and  style  of  writing  is  suddenly  so  much 
more  communicative. 

And  the  liberal  use  of  really  fine  color 
photography  makes  it  handsome  enough  to 
keep  on  our  coffee  table  for  many  weeks  to 
show  guests. 

Someone — most  likely  you  and  your 
immediate  staff — deserves  to  be 
congratulated  and  encouraged. 

You  have  done  everythmg  right.  Add  a 
center-fold  "Animal  of  the  Month"  and 
Hugh  Hefner  will  have  some  real 
competition  in  this  town! 

Thank  you. 

Eugene  A.  Peterson 
Chicago,  Illinois 

To  the  editor: 

While  on  a  fossil  hunting  expedition  in  our 
alley,  I  found  this  item  which  appears  to 
me  to  be  a  tooth  of  some  kind. 

I  would  appreciate  it  very  much  if  you  can 
more  definitely  identify  it  for  me.  Enclosed 
is  a  stamped  envelope,  for  your  reply,  and 
if  you  don't  mind  please  return  the  tooth. 

Thank  you  for  anything  that  you  may  be' 
able  to  do  for  me  in  this  matter. 

Matt  Pesch.  Age  9 
Plymouth,  Indiana 

Dr.  Eugene  Richardson  replies: 

I  congratulate  you  on  finding  such  a  tiny 
fossil  in  your  alley.  I'm  sure  that  most 
people  wouldn't  have  noticed  it  at  all. 

You  thought  that  the  fossil  was  some  kind  of 
tooth.  When  your  letter  was  put  before  the 
members  of  the  Geology  Department  this 
morning,  at  least  two  of  the  men  remarked, 
"It  seems  to  be  a  tooth  of  some  kind." 

Actually,  when  we  had  a  look  at  it  with  the 
microscope,  it  turned  out  to  be  a  fossil  coral. 
I  am  quite  unable  to  say  what  kind  of  coral, 
since  it  is  such  a  small  fragment,  but  coral 
it  is.  I  suspect  that  you  will  find  other  pieces 
of  coral  in  the  same  area  if  you  continue 
looking,  and  you  will  find  that  hardly  any 
two  of  them  will  resemble  each  other.  To 
begin  with,  there  are  many  different  kinds  of 
fossil  coral  that  can  turn  up  in  limestone 
gravels  in  Indiana — and  then,  to  make  it 
more  difficult,  the  corals  can  be  broken  or 
dissolved  in  many  different  ways. 

As  you  have  already  discovered,  there  is  a 
great  deal  that  can  be  seen  if  you  keep 
looking,  and  it  is  not  necessary  to  go  far 
places  to  find  interesting  specimens. 

Eugene  S.  Richardson,  Jr. 
Curator  of  Fossil  Invertebrates 
Field  Museum 

Matt  Pesch  replies: 

Thank  you  for  your  reply.   I  enjoyed 
getting  it. 

When  I  grow  up  I  want  to  be  a  geologist. 

It  wasn't  hard  not  to  see  it  because  I  was 
on  my  hands  and  knees. 

Then  I  went  out  in  my  alley  after  I  got  your 
letter  and  found  these  croinds  or  what  ever 
you  call  them  for  you.  Thank  you. 

p.s.  Tell  the  members  of  the  Geology 

Department  that  I  say  thanks. 

Matt  Pesch 

To  the  editor: 

Following  the  wave  of  Congressional 
support  to  save  the  wild  horses  and  burros 
of  Western  America  from  harassment  and 
slaughter,  hearings  were  held  in  the  House 
of  Representatives  and  in  the  Senate  on 
April  19  and  20,  1971,  respectively.  This 
was  accomplished  through  the  efforts  and 
dedication  of  Senator  Henry  M.  Jackson  of 
Washington,  chairman  of  the  Senate  Insular 
and  Interior  Affairs  Committee,  and 
Congressman  Walter  S.  Baring  of  Nevada, 
chairman  of  the  Public  Lands  Subcommittee 

of  the  House  Interior  and  Insular  Affairs 
Committee,  who  had  introduced  almost 
Identical  bills. 

Representatives  from  a  large  number  of 
interested  and  affected  groups  testified 
before  both  Committees.  Though  one  would 
expect  widely  diverse  opinions,  nearly  all 
those  who  gave  testimony  agreed  that 
legislation  must  be  enacted  to  protect, 
manage,  and  control  the  wild  horses  and 
burros  in  the  public  interest  and  as  a 
symbol  of  the  freedom  that  is  our  heritage. 

This  does  not  mean,  however,  that  victory 
will  be  easily  won,  for  powerful  and 
unidentified  opposition  surfaced  through  a 
few  key  legislators.  That  is  why  it  is  so 
urgent  that  you  continue  letting  your  views 
be  knov/n  to  the  lawmakers. 

If  you  have  not  already  written  to  your  two 
Senators  asking  their  support  of  the  Jackson 
Bill,  S.  1116,  and  to  your  Congressman 
asking  his  support  of  the  Baring  Bill,  H.R. 
5375,  please  do  so  immediately  so  that  they 
will  vote  for  passage  when  the  bills  come 
to  the  floors  of  both  houses  of  Congress. 

All  Senators  may  be  addressed:  c/o  Senate 
Office  Building,  Washington,  D.C.  20510 

All  Congressmen  may  be  addressed:  c/o 
House  Office  Building,  Washington,  DC. 

Velma  B.  Johnston  (Wild  Horse  Annie) 


International  Society  for  the  Protection  of 

Mustangs  and  Burros 

Editor's  note: 

Patricia  M.  Williams'  article  "Canning  a 
Legend"  in  the  February  issue  of  the  Bulletin 
called  attention  to  the  fact  that  wild  horses 
are  rapidly  being  extirpated  in  North  America. 
Many  of  our  readers  have  since  indicated 
that  they  wanted  to  be  kept  informed  of 
progress  toward  legislation  to  help  save  them. 

Please  address  all  letters  to  the  editor  to 


Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 
Roosevelt  Road  and  Lake  Shore  Drive 
Chicago,  Illinois  60605 

The  editors  reserve  the  right  to  edit 
letters  for  length. 


Bulletin    June  1971 



9  a^.  to  6  p.m.  Saturday-Thursday 
9  a.m.  to  9  p.m.  Friday 

June  26  to  September  6 

9  a.m.  to  9  p.m.  Wednesday,  Friday, 

Saturday,  and  Sunday 

The  Museum  Library  is  open  9  a.m.  to 
4:30  p.m.  Monday  through  Friday 


Color  in  Nature,  an  exhibit  examining  the 
nature  and  variety  of  color  in  the  physical 
and  living  w/orld  around  us,  and  how/  it 
functions  in  plants  and  animals.  It  focuses 
on  the  many  roles  of  color,  as  in  mimicry, 
camouflage,  warning,  sexual  recognition 
and  selection,  energy  channeling,  and 
vitamin  production,  using  specimens  from 
the  Museum's  huge  collections.  Through 
November  28.  Hall  25. 

The  Afro-American  Style,  From  the  Design 
Works  of  Bedford-Stuyvesant,  an  exhibit  of 
textiles  blending  classical  African  motifs  and 
contemporary  design.  Artifacts  from  Field 
Museum's  Benin  collection,  which  inspired 
many  of  the  designs,  are  also  shown. 
Financial  assistance  for  the  exhibit  was 
received  from  the  CNA  Foundation,  Chicago. 
Through  September  12.  Hall  9. 

John  James  Audubon's  elephant  folio.  The 
Birds  of  America,  on  display  in  the  North 
Lounge.  A  different  plate  from  the  rare, 
first-edition  volumes  is  featured  each  day. 

75th  Anniversary  Exhibit:  A  Sense  of 
Wonder,  A  Sense  of  History,  A  Sense  of 
Discovery,  offers  a  many-dimensioned  view 
of  Field  Museum's  past  and  present,  and 
some  of  its  current  research  projects. 
Continues  indefinitely.  Hall  3. 

A  Specimen  of  the  "Glory  of  the  Sea," 

one  of  the  world's  most  famous  and  rarest 
sea  shells  (Conus  gloriamaris),  shown  in 
the  South  Lounge.  Acquisition  of  this  perfect 
specimen  was  made  possible  through  the 
generosity  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Arthur  Moulding. 
Through  July  11. 

Free  Natural  History  Film  "Patterns  for 
Survival"  (A  Study  of  Mimicry)  presented  at 
11  a.m.  and  1  p.m.  on  Saturday,  and 
11  a.m.,  1  p.m.,  and  3  p.m.  on  Sunday  in  the 
second  floor  Meeting  Room,  through 
September.  The  half-hour  film  offers  an 
overall  view  of  protective  coloration  in 
insects  and  provides  visitors  with  an  insight 
into  the  "Color  in  Nature"  exhibit. 



"Dinosaur  Hunt,"  Summer  Journey  for 
Children,  acquaints  youngsters  with 
prehistoric  animals  in  Museum  exhibits  and 
paintings  through  a  free,  self-guided  tour. 
All  boys  and  girls  who  can  read  and  write 
may  participate.  Journey  sheets  are 
available  at  Museum  entrances.  Through 
August  31. 


Free  Guided  Tour  of  Field  Museum  exhibit 
areas  leaves  from  the  North  information 
booth  at  2  p.m.  Monday  through  Friday, 
beginning  July  6.  A  color  motion  picture, 
"Through  These  Doors,"  focusing  on 
behind-the-scenes  activities  at  the  Museum, 
is  shown  at  3  p.m.  in  the  Lecture  Hall 
following  the  tour.  Through  September  3. 

Free  Summer  Children's  Movies  at  10  a.m. 
and  1  p.m.  on  Thursdays  in  the  James 
Simpson  Theatre. 

July    8 — "Zoos  Around  the  World" 
a  visit  to  some  world-famous  animals  in 
world-famous  zoos 

July  15 — "Adventures  of  an  Otter" 

the  delightful  story  of  a  mischievous  otter 

July  22 — "Living  Jungles" 

animals  and  plants  of  a  tropical  rain  forest 

July  29 — "The  Red  Balloon" 

the  adventures  of  a  big  red  balloon  and 

his  pet,  a  little  boy 

Deersldn  Jacket  with  painted  decoration 
depicting  warriors  on  horseback,  displayed 
in  the  South  Lounge  July  12  through 
September  5.  A  recent  gift  of  Mrs.  Richard 
D.  Stevenson,  the  jacket  was  collected  by 
her  grandfather.  Carter  H.  Harrison,  III,  in 
the  early  part  of  this  century  from  the  Sioux, 
probably  of  the  Pine  Ridge  Agency. 

Volume  42,  Number  7       July/ August  1971 

Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 



^'^'*^^^"      ■  'St,^ 


Volume  42,  Number  7 
July/ August  1971 

Cover:   The  carbon  14  technique  of  dating 
archaeological  material  invented  by  Dr.  Willard  F. 
Libby  is  based  upon  the  known  disintegration  rate 
of  this  radioactive  element,  which  is  called  its 
"half-life."   New  evidence  from  growth  rings  in 
bristlecone  pine  trees,  which  can  live  for  thousands 
of  years,  confirms  the  method  and  corrects  the  dates. 

2    Radiocarbon  Dating — Twenty  Years  Later 

Willard  F.  Libby 

new  refinements  in  the  carbon  14  archaeological  dating  technique 

upset  old  ideas  about  our  cosmic  and  cultural  history 

6    IVIuseology — IMeeting  the  Relevance  Problem 

Jonathan  Taylor 

Field  Museum  develops  a  unique  course  that  teaches  high  school 

students  how  to  conceive,  design,  and  build  museum  exhibits 

8    New  Pride  in  Blacl(  Africa 

Phil  Clark 

African  governments  and  scholars  are  actively  involved  in 

conservation  of  their  indigenous  cultures  and  wildlife 

1 1    Ecology  and  Economics 

Robert  F.  Inger 

an  ecologist  speculates  about  possible  parallels  between 

natural  and  human  economies 

1 4  Book  Reviews 

15  Field  Briefs 

16  Letters 

Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 

Director,  E.  Leland  Webber 

Editor  Joyce  Zibro;  Associate  Editor  Elizabeth  Munger;  Staff  Writer  Madge  Jacobs;  Production  Russ  Becker;  Photography  John  Bayalis. 
Fred  Huysmans. 

The  Bulletin  is  published  monthly  except  August  by  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois 
60605.  Subscriptions:  $9  a  year;  $3  a  year  for  schools.  Members  of  the  Museum  subscribe  through  Museum  membership.  Opinions  expressed 
by  authors  are  their  ovjn  and  do  not  necessarily  reflect  the  policy  of  Field  Museum.  Unsolicited  manuscripts  are  w/elcome.  Application  to  mail 
at  second-class  postage  rates  is  pending  at  Chicago,  Illinois.  Postmaster:  Please  send  form  3579  to  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History, 
Roosevelt  Road  at  Lal<e  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605. 

Bulletin     July/August  1971 

The  new  method  of  radiocarbon  dating, 
developed  by  Dr.  Willard  F.  Libby  at 
the  Institute  for  Nuclear  Studies  of  the 
University  of  Chicago,  promises  to 
revolutionize  dating  problems  In 
archaeology.  This  method  determines  the 
age  of  things  that  lived  during  the  past 
20,000  years  by  measuring  the  amount  of 
carbon  14  they  contain. 

Carbon  14  is  an  unstable  (radioactive) 
heavy  form  of  carbon  with  an  atomic  weight 
of  14.  Normal,  stable  carbon  has  an  atomic 
weight  of  12.  The  half-life  of  carbon  14 
is  about  5,500  years.  This  means  that  an 
ounce  of  carbon  14  is  reduced  by  decay 
to  half  an  ounce  in  5,500  years,  that  half 
the  remainder  decays  during  the  next 
5,500  years,  leaving  a  quarter  of  an 
ounce,  and  so  on. 

Carbon  14  is  constantly  being  formed  in 
the  earth's  upper  atmosphere  as  the  result 
of  the  bombardment  of  nitrogen-14  atoms 
by  cosmic  rays  (neutrons).  The  carbon-14 
atoms  thus  created  combine  with  oxygen 
to  form  carbon  dioxide,  which  becomes 
mixed  in  the  earth's  atmosphere  with  the 
vastly  greater  proportion  of  carbon  dioxide 
containing  ordinary  carbon  atoms.  The 
carbon  14  then  enters  all  living  things, 
which,  through  the  life  process,  are  in 
exchange  with  the  atmosphere.  This 
exchange  is  carried  out  through 
photosynthesis  in  plants. .  . . 

When  a  plant  or  an  animal  dies,  it  ceases 
to  be  in  exchange  with  the  atmosphere 
and  hence  there  is  no  further  intake  of 
carbon  14.  But  the  carbon  14  contained  at 
death  goes  on  disintegrating  at  a  constant 
rate,  so  that  the  amount  of  carbon  14 
remaining  is  proportional  to  the  time 
elapsed  since  death.  Given  the  carbon  14 
content  of  contemporary  living  matter  and 
the  disintegration  rate  of  carbon  14  (the 
half-life),  it  is  possible  to  calculate  the  age 
of  an  ancient  organic  sample  from  the 
amount  of  carbon  14  it  contains. 

— from  "New  Radiocarbon  IVIethod  for 
Dating  the  Past"  by  Donald  Collier, 
Chicago  Natural  History  Museum  Bulletin, 
January,  1951. 

One  of  the  first  publications  on  the 
radiocarbon  dating  method  was  by 
Donald  Collier  in  this  magazine  tvi/enty 
years  ago.  It  described  in  clear,  lucid 
language  the  nev^^ly  born  physical 
technique  for  determining  the  lapse  of 
time  since  death  of  living  organisms. 
Donald  Collier  and  I  were  firm 
collaborators  during  the  gestation 
period  and  he  helped  deliver  the  baby. 
He  served  with  Richard  Foster  Flint,  the 
geologist  of  Yale,  Fredericl<  Johnson  of 
the  Phillips  Academy,  and  Froelich 
Rainey  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania 
tvluseum  to  guide  Dr.  Arnold,  Dr. 
Anderson,  and  myself  in  the  actual 

Furthermore,  he  developed  the 
technique  of  persuading  museum 
keepers  that  they  should  give  us 
materials  to  measure.  This  was  no  small 
achievement  since  our  method  is 
destructive — a  sample  from  the  material 
to  be  dated  had  to  be  burned — and  at 
that  early  date  we  were  requiring 
samples  as  large  as  one  ounce  for 

1  recall  well  when  he  gave  us  a  sample 
from  the  deck  plank  of  the  solar  boat  at 
the  Field  Museum,  the  funeral  ship  of 
the  Egyptian  Pharaoh  Sesostris  III, 
which  we  dated  at  3,750  years  using 
the  half-life  we  had  then  adopted  of 
5,568  years.  We  now  know  that  the 
half-life  should  be  3  percent  longer  as 
the  result  of  further  studies  by  others, 
so  something  like  a  century  should  be 
added  to  the  time  to  make  it  perhaps 
3,875  years.  I  understand  that  the  solar 
boat  is  being  redated  at  the  Applied 
Science  Center  for  Archaeology  at  the 
University  Museum  in  Philadelphia  by 
Henry  Michael,  and  I  am  told  that  a 
portion  of  the  same  plank  used  twenty 
years  ago  and  again  now  is  being 
reserved  for  future  radiocarbon  daters 
who  may  want  to  check  the  age  of  this 
priceless  artifact. 

During  the  past  twenty  years  several 
things  have  happened  which  have 
modified  the  radiocarbon  dating  method 

and  brought  out  its  latent  capabilities 
more  clearly. 

A  basic  assumption  which  we  made  in 
developing  the  method  was  that  the 
cosmic  rays  that  created  carbon  14  had 
bombarded  the  earth's  atmosphere  at 
fixed  intensity  for  the  last  50,000  years 
or  so,  and  that  we  would  be  justified  in 
assuming  that  at  the  time  of  death  the 
material  being  measured  had  the  same 
proportion  of  radiocarbon  content  as 
does  modern  wood  or  any  living 
modern  material.  It  has  been  found, 
liowever,  that  this  is  not  strictly  true. 

The  first  hints  of  discrepancy  were 
disagreements  with  the  Egyptian 
historians.  Dr.  Paul  Damon  at  the 
University  of  Arizona  noted  that  even 
with  a  lengthening  of  the  half-life  of 
carbon  14  from  5,568  to  5,730  years, 
the  dates  for  the  First  Dynasty  were 
later  than  the  historians  would  have 
them  be  from  their  historical  records. 
Of  course,  their  dates  were  quite 
uncertain  since  these  records  were 
among  the  oldest  written  history  on 

There  was  no  proof  that  a  correction 
was  necessary  until  a  new  development 
occurred  and  Dr.  Damon  and  Dr.  Hans 
Suess  of  the  University  of  California  at 
San  Diego  and  workers  at  the  Douglas 
Tree  Ring  Laboratory  in  Arizona, 
Wesley  Ferguson  in  particular,  applied 
a  new  method  of  checking.  This  new 
method  assumes  that  the  wood  in  an 
ancient  tree  which  constitutes  a  single 
ring  is  itself  datable  by  radiocarbon. 
In  other  words,  it  assumes  that  the 
wood  has  not  been  altered  since  the 
rings  were  laid  down  during  growth  and 
that,  with  chemical  purification  to 
remove  humic  acids  and  other  soluble 
materials,  it  can  be  burned  and 
successfully  dated  by  its  radiocarbon 
content.  Thus,  by  systematically 
measuring  the  radiocarbon  content  in 
ring  after  ring  of  trees  of  consecutively 
greater  and  greater  age,  both  living  and 
dead,  this  new  way  to  check  has 
already  been  carried  back  more  than 

Bulletin     July/August  1971 

A  portion  of  the  same  plank  from  tills  solar  boat 
used  twenty  years  ago  and  again  now  is  being 
reserved  for  future  radiocarbon  daters. 

8,000  years.  The  bristlecone  pine  trees 
in  California  and  Nevada,  which  can 
live  for  several  thousand  years,  have 
provided  the  material  to  work  with. 

We  now  know  that  there  is  a  correction 
to  be  made  in  the  direction  that  modern 
radiocarbon  is  less  abundant  by  several 
percent  than  it  was  in  these  ancient 
times.  Apparently  at  that  time  the 
cosmic  ray  bombardment  rate  was 
higher  and  caused  the  concentration  of 
radiocarbon  in  all  living  matter 
throughout  the  world  to  be  several 
percent  higher  than  today.  A  1  percent 
change  corresponds  to  83  years,  so  this 
amounts  to  several  centuries.  A 
correction  curve  has  been  deduced 
from  this  tree  ring  research.  With  it  in 
hand  and  used  to  recalculate  the 
Egyptian  problem,  we  now  find  that  the 
historical  dates  fit  well  with  corrected 
radiocarbon  dates. 

A  second  major  result  is  that  the 
corrected  dating  seems  to  require  some 
fundamental  changes  in  archaeological 
evaluation  in  prehistoric  Europe  and  the 
[fiddle  East.  This  result  is  just  coming 
out  in  the  open,  as  I  learned  from 
Professor  Colin  Renfrew,  of  the 
Department  of  Ancient  History  at  the 
University  of  Sheffield  in  England.  Two 
lines  of  thought  in  European  prehistory 
have  come  into  conflict  recently.  One 
adheres  to  the  diffusion  explanation 
for  the  spread  of  skills;  the  other 
postulates  independent  invention.  The 
corrected  dates  at  present  point 
strongly  in  favor  of  the  latter  view.  In 
other  words,  as  I  understand  it, 
Professor  Renfrew  is  maintaining  that 
even  though  writing  was  invented  in 
Mesopotamia  and  Egypt,  such  matters 
as  the  development  of  copper  and 
bronze  metallurgy  may  have  developed 
independently  and  have  coexisted  in 
the  prehistoric  period  in  several  places. 
Previously  it  had  been  thought  that 
metallurgy  came  first  from  Egypt  and 
the  ancient  Sumerian  civilization  of 

Mesopotamia  to  the  Aegean  and  then 
north  and  west  through  the  Balkans  to 
the  rest  of  Europe.  Likewise,  the  custom 
of  burying  the  dead  in  monumental 
tombs  was  thought  to  have  traveled  a 
similar  route.  But  the  whole  matter  is 
apparently  up  for  reassessment  in  view 
of  the  corrected  radiocarbon  dates. 

A  third  point  is  the  value  of  the 
corrections  themselves  for  the 
understanding  of  geophysical 
phenomena.  Something  caused  the 
cosmic  rays  to  vary — and  we  now  have 
a  record  of  the  extent  to  which  they  did 
vary — for  the  only  way  the  concentration 
of  radiocarbon  could  have  changed 
was  that  its  rate  of  production  in  the 
atmosphere  must  have  changed.  The 
volume  of  the  ocean  is  known  to  have 
varied  only  to  a  very  slight  extent  over 
the  last  several  tens  of  thousands  of 
years,  and  the  ocean  is  the  main 
diluting  reservoir  of  the  atmospheric 

There  are  several  possible  explanations 
for  cosmic  ray  variation.  One  is  that 
Earth's  magnetic  field  was  somehow 
weakened,  letting  more  cosmic  rays  hit 
the  atmosphere.  At  the  present  time 
about  half  the  cosmic  rays  which  would 
otherwise  hit  Earth  are  deflected  away 
by  Earth's  field  because  cosmic  rays 
are  charged  particles.  So  if  Earth's  field 
became  weaker,  more  would  come  in 
and  produce  radiocarbon  and  thus  raise 
the  modern  concentration. 

Another  possibility  is  that  the  sun  was 
somehow  less  active  in  emitting  solar 
wind.  Studies  in  recent  years  with 
space  satellites  and  space  probes  have 

shown  that  the  sun  is  constantly 
emitting  ionized  matter  which  is  racing 
outward,  and  cosmic  rays  are  deflected 
to  a  considerable  extent  by  this  solar 

Most  cosmic  rays  originate  outside  the 
solar  system  in  an  as  yet  unknown 
source,  so  we  have  the  exciting 
possibility  of  relating  our  climate  to  the 
deviations  if  there  be  a  correlation 
between  the  total  emission  of  energy 
from  the  sun  and  the  strength  of  the 
solar  wind,  which  seems  entirely 
reasonable  on  physical  grounds.  Of 
course,  such  a  correlation  has  yet  to 
be  established,  but  it  seems 
reasonable,  in  fact  almost  certain,  that 
such  a  correlation  must  exist. 
Some  evidence  has  been  obtained  by 
studying  the  magnetism  induced  in 
ancient  brick  kilns  which  have  been 
radiocarbon-dated.  The  magnetic 
minerals  in  the  bricks  were  oriented  in 
direction  by  the  magnetic  field  then 
present  when  the  bricks  were  last  fired. 
So  by  studying  the  bricks,  the  direction 
of  the  ancient  magnetic  field  can  be 
obtained.  Its  intensity  also  can  be 
obtained  by  the  intensity  of  the 
magnetization,  at  least  roughly.  Now, 
the  direction  of  the  magnetic  field  has 
little  bearing  on  the  question  since 
radiocarbon  mixes  over  Earth's 
surface  quite  rapidly,  in  a  matter  of  a 
few  hundred  years,  but  the  intensity  is 
indeed  a  serious  question,  as  was 
pointed  out  many  years  ago  by  Elsasser 
and  others.  At  the  present  time  the 
source  of  Earth's  magnetic  field  is 
unknown,  though  we  have  begun  to 
suspect  that  Earth's  field  must  be 
connected  somehow  with  its  rotation. 
This  suspicion  is  based  on  the  fact  that 
Venus,  which  in  other  respects  is  very 
similar  to  Earth,  has  no  magnetic 
field  and  does  not  rotate.  Of  course,  we 
know  that  the  rotation  of  Earth  has  not 
changed  abruptly  in  the  last  several 
thousand  years,  so  if  there  was  a 

Bulletin     July/August  1971 

A  single  specimen  of  brisllecone  pine,  PInus  artstata,  growing  at  an  elevation  of  10,800  feel 
In  the  White  Mountains  of  east-central  California.  Photo  from  Laboratory  of  Tree-Ring 
Research,  University  ol  Arizona. 

weakening  of  Earth's  magnetic  field,  we 
are  essentially  in  the  dark  as  to  the 
geophysical  mechanism. 

But  the  important  point  is  that 
radiocarbon  dating  has  given  an 
additional  set  of  data  on  the  history  of 
the  intensity  of  Earth's  magnetic  field, 
if  it  indeed  can  be  shown  that  this  is 
the  cause  of  the  variation  in  cosmic 
rays;  or,  alternatively,  it  has  given 
additional  data  on  the  history  of  the 
sun.  It  is  difficult  at  this  point  in  time  to 
know  which  the  true  explanation  of  the 
variation  is,  but  we  have  every  reason 
to  hope  that  further  research  will  settle 
this  uncertainty.  It  may  well  be  that 
both  factors  are  involved,  as  Dr.  Suess 
has  suggested. 

Another  benefit  which  has  come  out  of 
the  twenty  years'  experience  with 
radiocarbon  dating  is  the  clear 
demonstration  of  the  ability  of  the 
physical  scientist  and  the  archaeologist 
to  collaborate  wholeheartedly  and 
successfully;  of  the  ability  of  each  to 
learn  the  other's  trade  and  to 
understand  the  difficulties  in  the  other's 
field.  It  is  clear  that  interdisciplinary 
science  and  interdisciplinary 
collaboration  throughout  all  fields  of 
knowledge  are  essential  for  the 
problems  associated  with  the  protection 
of  our  environment,  and  I  take  pride 
that  radiocarbon  research  was  one  of 
the  first  collaborations  to  demonstrate 
in  modern  limes  that  this  melding 
together  of  specialists  in  widely 
different  disciplines  can  be  done 

Dr.  Willard  F.  Libby  is  now  at  the  University 
ol  Calilornia,  Los  Angeles,  Department  ol 
Chemistry,  and  Institute  ol  Geophysics  and 
Planetary  Physics.  He  won  the  Nobel  Prize 
lor  Chemistry  in  1960  "lor  his  method  to  use 
carbon-14  lor  age  determination  in 
archaeology,  geology,  geophysics,  and 
other  branches  ol  science." 

Bulletin     July/August  1971 

Museology- meeting 
the  relevance  problem 

Jonathan  Taylor 

Field  Museum  was  faced  with  the 
problem  of  how  to  determine  what 
kinds  of  exhibits  would  be  most 
exciting  for  high  school  students. 
Many  institutions  have  attacked  this 
"relevance"  problem  by  inviting  their 
audiences  to  communicate  with  one 
another  via  the  modes  of 
communication  of  those  institutions. 
Newspapers  and  TV,  for  example,  have 
been  used  by  high  school  students  to 
speak  to  other  students.  Could  this 
approach  be  equally  effective  in 
exhibition?  Field  Museum  is  finding  out 
through  a  recently  initiated  program 
entitled  "Museology"  which  involves 
Chicago  high  school  juniors  and 
seniors  in  using  the  exhibition  medium 
to  communicate  with  other  high  school 

The  program  actually  developed  from 
a  wedding  of  a  number  of  related 
ideas.    In  October  of  1969, 
Donald  Edinger,  chairman  of  the 
Department  of  Education,  Elizabeth 
Goldring  of  the  Raymond  Foundation, 
and  I  started  extensive  discussions  and 
evaluations  around  a  series  of 
questions:  Could  we  involve  high 
school  students  in  the  Museum?  How 
do  we  produce  exciting  traveling 
exhibits  for  high  schools?  Can  high 
school  students  act  as  consultants  for 
these  exhibits?  Could  high  school 
students  be  trained  to  make  a  museum 
exhibit?  Gradually  we  came  to 
recognize  that  all  these  questions 
added  up  to  a  unique  idea  for 
museums.  The  outcome  of  our 
discussions,  strugglings,  and  searchings 
was  Museology. 

In  January  1970,  while  we  were  still 
refining  the  plans,  six  seniors  from 
Francis  Parker  School  came  to  our 
Department  of  Exhibition  to  ask  if  they 
could  make  an  exhibit.  The  interested 
members  of  the  Education  and 
Exhibition  departments  met  with  the  six 
students  in  a  long,  smoky,  productive 
session  which  concluded  with  the 
Museum  agreeing  to  teach  a  pilot 
course  in  museology  and  the  students 
agreeing  to  act  as  guinea  pigs  for  the 
test  run. 

Traveling  exhibit  produced  by  high  school  students 
in  pilot  Museology  course  given  by  Field  Museum's 
Department  of  Education,  in  1970.   The  exhibit  was 
designed  and  constructed  by  Francis  W.  Parker 
School  students  Lawfnin  Crawford,  Hal  Gerber,  Bill 
Lawton,  Peter  Lewis,  Steve  Prins,  and  Mindy  Schirm. 

If  the  original  meeting  was  smoky,  the 
course  was  a  forest  fire  in  comparison. 
As  with  many  pilot  projects,  the  time 
devoted  to  this  one  expanded  far 
beyond  our  expectations,  for  both 
Exhibition  and  Education.  The  students 
spent  four  months  trying  to  refine  their 
own  ideas  to  an  exhibitable  level,  and 
finally  compromised  on  a  spin-off 
exhibit  from  the  Museum's  temporary 
exhibit  "Illinois  by  the  Sea."  They 
rewrote  a  segment  of  this  exhibit,  then 
designed  and  constructed  their  final 
product.  In  June  1970,  "Death  by 
Crowding,"  a  traveling  exhibit  designed 
for  high  schools,  was  finished  and 
went  on  display  in  Field  Museum. 

The  exhibit  then  traveled  to  several 
Chicago  high  schools  and  to  Malcolm 
X  College  during  the  1970-71  school 
year,  and  was  very  well  received  by 
both  students  and  faculty.  High  school 
students  recognize  it  as  a 

communication  from  their  peers  and 
respect  it.  An  index  of  this  respect  is 
the  excellent  condition  of  the  exhibit 
after  a  year's  use — much  better 
condition  than  one  might  reasonably 
expect.  It  is  a  walk-in  exhibit  with 
every  part  exposed,  yet  it  has 
remained  completely  clean  of  any 
scratches  or  markings. 

After  the  1970  pilot  run  of  Museology, 
Donald  Edinger  and  I  began  some 
extensive  redesign  of  the  course. 
Objectives  were  outlined  and  arranged 
in  sequence,  and  appropriate 
instructional  materials  were  written  for 
each  step.  The  final  plan  for  a  full 
school-year  course  was  then 
considered  by  various  educational 
agencies  in  Chicago.  The  Chicago 
Public  Schools'  Programs  for  the 
Gifted  liked  the  plan  and  sponsored 
Museology  for  the  school  year 
1970-71.  They  selected  students  from 
a  diversity  of  ethnic  backgrounds  and 
from  different  parts  of  the  city  and 
arranged  credit  in  both  Social 
Studies  and  Science  for  the  course, 
which  runs  nine  hours  per  week.  They 
assigned  Mrs.  Sue  Maxwell  to  assist 
me  in  teaching  it,  and  this  past  year's 
experience  has  prepared  her  well  for 
teaching  any  subsequent  offerings  of 

This  second  group  of  students  started 
last  October  with  a  complete  outline  of 
the  course  they  were  to  follow.  First 
they  observed  and  analyzed  the 
Museum  from  a  number  of  points  of 
view:  the  types  of  audiences  which 
come  here;  where  most  visitors  go 
within  the  Museum;  what  disciplines 
are  represented  in  Museum  exhibits 
and  the  percentage  of  exhibition  area 
devoted  to  each.  Each  student  then 
studied,  analyzed,  and  evaluated  one 
exhibit  by  identifying  its  intended 
message,  writing  an  audience  test,  and 
applying  the  test  to  an  actual  audience 
to  determine  the  "success"  of  the 

The  next  step  was  a  month  of  work  in 
a  department  of  the  Museum  for  each 


Bulletin     July/August  1971 

of  the  students,  with  two  objectives. 
One  was  that  each  student  experience 
directly  what  working  within  a  specific 
scientific,  exhibition,  or  educational 
discipline  is  like.  The  other  was  that 
each  student  record  and  assess  the 
"functions  of  his  particular  department 
on  a  basis  of  observed  activities"  plus 
any  other  means  he  could  devise  to 
obtain  this  information.  Three  of  the 
students  were  placed  outside  Field 
Museum,  two  in  Shedd  Aquarium  and 
one  in  Adier  Planetarium.  Following 
this  month  of  "apprenticeship,"  the 
students  reconvened  as  a  class  to  pool 
their  information  and  construct  from 
that  a  description  of  the  Museum.  This 
was  an  important  assignment,  for  the 
exhibit  which  they  were  ultimately  to 
produce  must  be  consistent  with  the 
functions  and  disciplines  of  Field 
Museum.  The  students  then  wrote  a 
schedule  of  the  sequence  of  events 
necessary  for  production  of  an  exhibit, 
including  defining  the  limits  of  a 
traveling  exhibit — size,  weight,  number 
of  pieces,  durability,  etc. 

Only  at  this  point  were  they  ready  to 
start  the  long  process  of  painstakingly 
planning  and  constructing  their  exhibit. 
Following  their  own  sequence,  they 
identified  their  exhibit  topic,  researched 
the  subject,  wrote  the  script  and  labels, 
got  photos,  designed  and  finally  built 
the  exhibit.  This  last  segment  of  the 
course,  the  most  arduous  and  time- 
consuming,  takes  more  than  half  the 
school  year.  For  thirteen  highly 
intelligent,  individualistic  young  men 
and  women  from  a  diversity  of 
backgrounds  to  come  to  a  consensus 
on  an  exhibit  topic,  on  design,  and  on 
the  content  of  that  exhibit  might  well 
be  one  of  the  most  difficult  tasks  they 
have  ever  attempted.  But  their  reward 
is  an  ultimate  product — a  traveling 
exhibit — that  is  a  very  satisfyingly 
tangible  communication  of  their  ideas  to 
other  people — in  this  instance,  "the 
establishing  of  masculine  and  feminine 
roles  in  contemporary  society."  To  get 
feedback  from  this  communication, 
they  must  also  write  an  evaluation 
instrument  to  test  whether  the  exhibit  is 

students  in  ttie  1970-71  Museology  program  working  on  ttieir  extiibit.  From  lett  to  right:  Walter  Whitford. 
Lindblom  High  School;  Kathy  Gunnel!,  Fenger;  Mrs.  Susan  Maxwell,  teacher  from  Chicago  Board  of 
Education;  Alisa  Swain,  Lindblom;  Leslie  Biernat,  Kelly;  Jonathan  Taylor,  teacher  from  Field  Museum.  Students 
in  the  class  not  shown:  Robert  Brown,  Hyde  Park;  Susan  Fleishman,  Waller;  James  Hisson,  Kelly;  Gail 
Isenberg,  Kenwood;  Joan  Iwatake,  Senn;  Judith  Nelson,  Harlan;  Nia  Parfenoff,  Waller;  Felice  Shiroma,  Senn; 
Thalia  St.  Lewis,  Tuley. 

successful  in  evoking  the  intended 
response  from  the  audience. 

Our  rewards  are  several.  There  is  the 
satisfaction  of  working  out  an  exciting 
cooperative  program  with  Chicago 
Public  Schools  plus  the  satisfaction  of 
sending  contemporary  and  "relevant" 
exhibits  to  high  schools  in  Chicago. 
In  addition,  our  Museology  course  can 
now  provide  a  continuing  output  of 
high  school  students  who  have  had 
very  real  and  in-depth  experience  with 
a  museum,  and  who  might  seriously 
consider  museum  careers  as  a  result. 

We  would  like  to  see  this  program 
expanded  in  at  least  two  ways.  It  could 
be  duplicated  by  other  institutions 
interested  in  establishing  meaningful 
contact  with  their  high  school 
communities.  It  could  also  be 
broadened  within  Field  Museum  to 
include  other  educational  agencies. 

Jonathan  Taylor  Is  coordinator  of  N.  W. 
Harris  Extension,  Department  of  Education, 
Field  Museum. 

Editor's  note:  The  Museology  course  has 
been  included  in  a  compendium  of  museum 
outreach  pi^ograms  compiled  by  "Museums 
Collaborative,"  sponsored  by  the  New  York 
Council  for  the  Arts,  which  will  be  published 
this  summer.  It  can  be  obtained  from: 
Assistant  Director,  Museums  Collaborative, 
Department  of  Cultural  Affairs,  830  Fifth 
Avenue,  New  York,  N.Y.  10021. 

Bulletin     July/August  1971 

New  pride 


black  Africa 

Phil  Clark 

Winds  of  change  are  crealing  not  only 
new  political  and  economic  forms  in  the 
free  countries  of  black  Africa — they  are 
also  stimulating  refreshed  creativeness 
in  traditional  arts  and  handicrafts  and 
a  new  pride  in  the  great  mammals, 
colorful  birds,  and  unique  plants  of  this 
fascinating  continent.  This  was  the 
stand-out  impression  of  my  recent  study 
trip  in  Nigeria,  Cameroun,  and  Kenya. 

The  impression  was  based  on  the 
number  of  new  game  reserves  being 
established,  on  the  growing  official 
support  for  traditional  arts,  and  on 
comments  by  leading  black  and  white 
zoologists,  a  sultan,  taxi  drivers,  men 
and  women  in  markets,  and  student 
youths.  Government  and  private  tourism 
officers  stressed  the  contribution  to 
their  developing  economies  from  the 
increasing  numbers  of  tourists,  who  are 
attracted  largely  by  the  exciting 
animal  life  and  local  handicrafts. 
"The  independent  East  Africa 
governments,"  says  zoologist  John  G. 
Williams,"  are  more  active  in  wildlife 
preservation  than  the  colonial 
governments  were."  British  born  and 
trained,  Dr.  Williams  is  the  author  of 
the  principal  guides  to  birds,  mammals, 
butterflies,  and  game  reserves  of  East 
Africa.  (He  is  a  former  curator  of  birds 
at  the  Kenya  National  Museum,  Nairobi, 
and  has  been  in  Kenya  since  1945.) 
"The  strides  forward  in  conservation 
made  since  independence  [in  Kenya, 
1963]  are  very,  very  remarkable.  The 
three  East  African  nations  have  set  a 
good  example  to  all  of  Africa."  Williams 
added  that  Nigeria,  Cameroun,  and 
Ethiopia  are  now  developing  new  game 

In  part  this  interest  in  conservation 
was  triggered  by  the  success  of  East 
Africa  in  attracting  tourist  dollars.  It 
is  also  a  result  of  the  burgeoning 
national  pride  all  over  free  black  Africa 
in  the  uniqueness  of  their  wildlife  and 
in  the  attention  it  receives  from 
travelers  and  the  world's  press.  Dr. 
Williams  continued.  "More  important, 
though,  the  African  is  fundamentally 
interested  in  nature,"  he  said.  "To  build 

on  this  innate  interest,  there  is  an 
urgent  need  for  introductory  books  on 
natural  history  subjects.  That  is  one  of 
the  main  reasons  I've  concentrated  on 
production  of  field  guides."  He  hopes  to 
publish  Swahili  editions  of  his  books. 

I  talked  also  with  James  Gathuka 
Gachuhi,  a  leading  black  zoologist,  of 
Kikuyu  background,  who  has  worked 
and  studied  under  Williams.  For 
Gathuka,  wildlife  is  more  than  a  natural 
resource  of  economic  value;  it  is  a 
spiritual  resource.  He  is  happy  over 
increasing  official  support  for  nature 
preserves,  but  worried  by  threats  to 
them.  These,  I  learned,  reading  the 
Nairobi  press,  come  from  poachers 
seeking  pelts  for  the  European  and 
American  markets,  from  hard-pressed 
Masai  herdsmen  whose  cattle  also 
need  the  reserve  grasses  for  food,  and 
from  poor  squatters  who  have  moved 
in  on  some  reserve  areas. 

The  study  of  birds  and  mammals,  in  fact 
of  all  wildlife,  is  a  way  of  life  for 
Gathuka.  His  interest  in  nature  began  in 
childhood,  but  deeper  knowledge  came 
with  work  in  Uganda  with  a  German 
zoologist  and  collector  of  animals  for 
zoos.  Later,  because  of  his  wife's 
nostalgia  for  Kenya — "she  said  she 
would  go  back  to  her  parents" — Gathuka 
returned  to  Kenya.  There  he  met  and 
worked  under  Williams,  guiding  safaris 
for  persons  interested  in  wildlife 
photography.  He  has  a  sharp  eye  for 
birds  and  mammals,  even  when  their 
camouflage  makes  them  invisible 
to  the  untrained.  Knowing  their  habits, 
he  also  knows  where  and  when  to  find 
them  for  revealing,  candid  photos. 
With  his  help,  I  was  able  to  photograph 
a  nauseated  lioness  being  sick,  a  pair 
of  lions  mating,  a  gaggle  of  reticulated 
giraffes  huddled  under  an  acacia  tree 
during  heavy  rain,  and  a  timid  dik-dik 
peering  nervously  from  thornbushes  a 
few  feet  away.  Progress  is  real — it 
seems  to  me — when  the  pith-helmeted 
"white  hunter"  is  replaced  by  a  gentle 
zoologist  leading  a  photo  safari. 
Gathuka,  looking  ahead,  hopes  his 
son,  Gachuhi,  will  be  a  zoologist  too. 

Bulletin     July/ August  1971 

Photos  by  the  author. 

Dr.  Louis  S.  B.  Leakey,  the  noted 
paleontologist,  with  whom  I  talked  in 
Nairobi,  pointed  out  that  East  Africa's 
great  game  reserves  are  vital  to  newly 
developing  knowledge  about  animal 
behavior.  This  study  based  on  intimate 
observation  of  reserve  animals  is 
beginning  to  reveal  whole  dimensions  of 
animal  intelligence  that  had  not  been 

In  West  Africa,  my  strongest  impression 
is  the  human — so  spontaneous, 
outgoing,  smiling,  and  colorful.  This 
excitement  carries  through  to 
archaeology,  anthropology,  and  the 
related  arts,  crafts,  and  customs.  The 
artist  Picasso  credits  an  exhibit  of  West 
African  art  in  Europe  with  triggering  the 
whole  abstract  art  movement,  so  vital 
were  the  African  sculptures.  They  are 
still  vital  and  are  helping  black  Africans 
to  rediscover  themselves  even  as  they 
helped  white  Europeans  to  express 

I  talked  about  arts  and  crafts  with  the 
Sultan  of  Bamoun,  El  Hadj  Seidou 
Njimoluh  Njoya,  who  visited  Field 
Museum  in  1964.  Our  talks  were  in  the 
Sultan's  capital  city  of  Foumban,  set 
in  the  sere,  red  clay  hills  of  middle 
Cameroun.  The  Sultan  expressed  to  me 
his  conviction  that  growth  of  traditional 
handicrafts  is  a  key  to  both  cultural 
and  economic  development  in  his 
Sultanate.  Bamoun  has  for  centuries 
been  a  source  of  unique  folk  art,  which 
stems  from  the  vigorously  individual 
hybrid  black  Cameroun  and  Arab 
culture.  With  the  Sultan's 
encouragement,  a  whole  street  of 
artisan  establishments  has  sprung  up 
— foundries  for  the  lively  brass  figures, 
looms  for  colorful  textiles,  kilns  for 
potters,  and  shops  for  woodcarvers  and 
furniture  makers  and  those  who  deal 
in  hides  and  antiques.  Besides 
providing  jobs,  pride. in  local  arts,  and 
cash  income,  the  artisan  street  is 
intended  to  draw  tourists  to  this  still 
little  known  section  of  Cameroun. 
So  intense  is  the  Sultan's  interest  in 
the  artisan  project  that  young  and 
handsome  Prince  Zounedou 

occasionally  takes  a  visitor  to  Bamoun 
personally  from  shop  to  shop.  He 
showed  me  some  of  the  expressive 
brasses,  with  pride  almost  approaching 
that  of  the  sculptors  themselves.  These 
Muslim  brassworkers  make  figures  of 
sprightly  musicians,  pendant  heads  of 
past  sultans,  and  crucified  Christs, 
which,  besides  having  the  Semitic 
features  appropriate  for  Jesus  of 
Nazareth,  are  vividly  the  Man  of 

Traditional  dance  is  another  of  the  arts 
flourishing  in  Bamoun.  During 
celebrations  at  the  Feast  of  Ramadan, 
which  marks  the  end  of  the  long  Muslim 
period  of  fasting,  I  saw  at  least  eight 
different  folk  dance  groups — sword 
dancers  clashing  flashing  blades; 
warriors  with  feathered  headdresses 
and  old  muskets  which  were 
dangerously  discharged  at  a  dance 
climax;  spearmen  in  a  dancing  charge. 

Prince  Zounedou  impressed  me  as  part 
of  the  new  Africa — as  did  his  royal 
father  also.  Both  were  vitally  concerned 
with  progress  for  their  land — ruled  by 
the  Sultan's  line  since  1431 — but  at  the 
same  time  are  equally  intent  that 
change  not  uproot  the  essential 
qualities  that  make  Bamoun  Bamoun. 

In  Lagos,  Nigeria,  that  capital  of  the 
arts  for  black  Africa,  handsome 
traditional  African  dress  is  dominant — 
colorfulflowing  robes  and  many  exotic 
caps  and  hats.  This  too  is  an  indication 
of  the  revitalized  national  spirit  surging 
in  the  arts.  No  matter  what  the  class — 
worker,  farmer,  businessman, 
government  official,  or  student — the 
long  gown,  or  at  least  the  colorful  shirt, 
is  worn. 

At  Ibadan  and  Ife,  heartland  of  the 
Yoruba,  I  found  carving  in  the  style  of 
the  twin  figures  still  being  done  and 
some  antique  figures  available  as  well. 
The  museum  at  the  University  in  Ibadan, 
one  of  Nigeria's  most  modern, 
emphasized  the  Yoruba  music,  arts,  and 
crafts  in  its  curriculum.  And,  of  course, 
at  Ife  Museum  it  was  possible  to  join 
crowds  of  Africans  to  see  the 

Bulletin    July/August  1971 

magnificent  and  mysterious  brass  and 
terra  cotta  heads,  the  oldest  probably 
sculptured  in  the  eighth  century.  These 
works  are  as  sophisticated  as  anything 
created  in  the  ancient  worlds  of  Europe 
and  the  Middle  East,  yet  they  are  an 
enigma  because  they  are  an  isolated 
African  flowering  of  naturalistic 
sculpture  rather  than  the  more  abstract 
style  typical  of  other  black  African 
cultures.  They  include  lifelike  replicas 
of  the  heads  of  Onis  (Ife  kings)  and 
members  of  their  courts.  The  latest 
were  believed  sculptured  in  the 
thirteenth  century. 

In  the  market  of  Ibadan  I  delighted  in 
that  charming  cultural  charcteristic  so 
conspicuous  in  West  Africa — the  "body 
talk"  that  adds  to  communication  a 
dimension  at  least  as  important  as  the 
verbal;  the  conversations  are 
punctuated  by  the  hand-slapping, 
shoulder-clasping,  and  hand-holding 
gestures  that  maintain  a  sense  of 
physical  communication.  This  is  as  true 
in  the  lobbies  of  the  prestigious  hotels 
as  in  the  markets — another  indication 
of  a  people  again  at  home  in  their  own 
land.  It  is  part  of  the  warm  humanness 
that  continues  among  American  blacks 
— most  of  whose  ancestors  came  from 
this  part  of  West  Africa. 

There  is  a  reverse  cross-fertilization 
evident  in  Nigerian  and  other  West 
African  popular  music:  it  is  clearly 
influenced  by  musical  styles  originating 
with  American  blacks,  yet  has  its  own 
uniquely  African  flavor.  While  I  was  in 
Nigeria,  concerts  given  by  the  American 
black  musician  James  Brown  were 
everywhere  attracting  immense  crowds. 

Benin,  seat  of  a  culture  which  achieved 
a  high  level  between  the  fourteenth  to 
seventeenth  centuries,  so  impressed  a 
Dutch  visitor  in  1602  that  he  compared 
it  to  Amsterdam:  rare  praise  from  a 
Netherlander  of  any  day.  Its  art, 
particularly  the  carved  ivories  and  cast 
bronzes  depicting  the  Obas  and  their 
warriors,  continue  to  astound  art 
specialists  today. 

Another  indication  of  the  awakening 

pride  In  indigenous  culture  is  the  new 
museum  just  being  completed  in  Benin 
City;  it  is  a  round  tower  with  a  snail 
spiral  exhibit  area  within,  similar  to  the 
Guggenheim  Museum  in  New  York  City. 

In  the  form  of  wood  carving,  work  in  the 
same  and  in  modern  naturalistic  styles 
is  coming  from  the  presentday  shops  in 
Benin.  Here  agai.i  tourism  and  local 
pride,  each  stimulated  by  the  other, 
encourage  more  development,  more 
renewal  of  old  cultural  styles,  and  their 
evolution  into  changed  but  related 

Nigeria  also  has  an  outstanding  literary 
culture,  contributed  to  by  numerous 
writers  of  various  tribal  backgrounds. 
I  was  especially  impressed  by  the 
novels  of  Chinua  Achebe,  an  Ibo.  His 
Arrow  of  God  (Anchor,  1969),  which 
won  the  New  Statesman  novel  award  in 
1965,  I  discovered  at  a  bookshop  in 
Lagos.  It  is  not  only  some  of  the  finest 
English  prose  in  contemporary  writing, 
it  provides  a  gifted  and  lively 
ethnographic  presentation  of  the  Ibos. 
Like  the  excellent  book  The  River 
Between  (African  Writers  Series, 
Heinemann,  1965)  by  James  Ngugi  (of 
Kikuyu  background),  Achebe's  novel 
tells  the  story  of  the  shock  waves  which 

shook  traditional  African  life  with  the 
coming  of  the  white  colonialists.  It  is 
through  such  understanding  and 
re-agonizing  through  what  happened  to 
their  societies  that  Africans  are 
rediscovering  themselves.  Novels  of 
this  kind  help  Africans  to  evaluate  the 
foreign  patterns  that  were  imposed  on 
them  and  to  revivify  and  continue  the 
evolution  of  their  traditional  ways  of  life. 

As  a  botanist-horticulturist,  I  was  also 
naturally  much  interested  in  Africa's 
flora.  It  was  thrilling  to  see  many  of  the 
wild  ancestors  of  plants  which  originate 
in  Africa.  Clerodendron  splendens,  that 
flame-flowered  vine  popular  in  tropical 
gardens,  grows  wild  on  hillsides  in 
Cameroun.  In  the  lush,  heavily  forested 
areas  near  Benin  in  Nigeria  and  in 
western  Cameroun,  the  stag-horned 
fern  (Platycerium  sp.)  flourishes  as  an 
epiphyte  on  the  tree  trunks.  Several 
species  of  Erythrina  make  scarlet 
patches  in  the  jungle  that  can  be  seen 
from  the  air.  Africa's  most  beautiful 
species  of  this  coral  tree  group, 
£.  abysinica,  with  flame-red  balls  of 
bloom,  is  particularly  common  at 
Samburu  in  Kenya. 

It  is  clear  that  the  African  governments 
are  concerned  about  protecting  plants 
as  well  as  animals.  The  damage  to  trees 
by  elephants  is  sad,  though — 
particularly  to  the  impressive,  fat-boled 
baobob  (Adansonia  digitata).  The  great 
pachyderms  delight  in  tearing  off  the 
outer  bark  in  order  to  eat  the  inner 
layer.  And  sometimes,  apparently  just 
for  fun,  they  push  over  these 
shallow-rooted  trees. 

Phil  Clark  formerly  directed  Field  Museum's 
Natural  History  Tours.  He  is  now  heading 
his  own  lour  business  at  520  North 
Michigan  Avenue,  Chicago,  Illinois  60611. 


Bulletin     July/August  1971 

ecology  &  economics 

robert  f.  inger 

In  olden  times — about  five  years  ago — 
before  ecology  became  popular,  it 
was  defined  by  biologists  as  tfie  study 
of  thie  relations  between  living  things 
and  their  environment.  That  typically 
stuffy  academic  definition  was  probably 
designed  to  keep  the  bums  out  of  the 
park.  In  my  opinion,  it  is  more 
interesting  to  refer  to  ecology  as  the 
study  of  the  natural  economy  of  living 
things.  I  prefer  that  definition  because 
the  word  "economy"  often  stimulates 
an  idle  ecologist  into  all  sorts  of  wild 
speculation — he  can  become  for  a 
while  an  armchair  economist.  You  will 
soon  see  where  that  can  lead. 

The  first  part  of  this  article  concerns 
some  current  ideas  in  ecology.  In  the 
second  part  a  strictly  amateur  economist 
takes  over  and  speculates  about 
parallels  between  these  ecological  ideas 
and  human  economics.  My  musings 
will  be  unfettered  by  the  usual  restraints 
imposed  by  knowledge.  But  it's 
relatively  harmless  speculation. 

Many  ecologists  devote  their  research 
time  to  investigating  the  structure  of 
natural  communities  and  trying  to 
understand  the  factors  that  account  for 
differences  between  communities.  A 
natural  community  is  simply  an 
assemblage  of  plant  and  animal 
species  that  occur  together — the  group 
of  species  that  live,  for  example,  in  a 
typical  farm  woodlot  in  the  Midwest, 
or  in  a  patch  of  prairie,  or  in  a  lake,  or 
along  a  rocky  coast.  These  species 
interact  in  set  ways  repeated  in  all 

For  example,  there  is  a  network  of 
relations  in  every  community  called  a 
food  web.  Green  plants  produce  food, 
animals  feed  on  the  plants,  other 
animals  feed  on  those  animals,  and 
scavengers  clean  up  the  dead  and 
dying.  The  food  web  is  part  of  a 
system  of  cycles  within  a  community. 
Plants  convert  carbon  dioxide  into  food 
and  give  off  oxygen  as  waste,  which 
animals  breathe,  giving  off  carbon 
dioxide  as  waste,  which  the  plants  use, 
completing  the  cycle.  Chemical 
nutrients  (nitrogen,  sulfur,  etc.)  are  also 
essential  for  proper  growth  of  plants 
and  animals.  All  these  materials  are 
similarly  cycled,  with  bacteria  playing 
a  key  role  in  the  process. 

The  cycles  are  not  perfect.  That  is  (all 
materials  circulating  in  a  given 
community  do  not  remain  within  the 
community.  There  is  some  leakage, 
some  movement  of  material  from  one 
community  to  another,  across  both 
space  and  time. 

One  community  differs  from  another 
in  various  ways.  The  most  profound 
difference,  in  the  sense  that  it  affects 
so  many  other  features,  is  in  internal 
diversity.  Diversity,  though  it  can  have 
many  meanings,  usually  refers  to  the 
number  and  relative  abundance  of 
species.  A  cornfield,  though  it  is 
man-made,  qualifies  as  a 
plant-and-animal  community.  It  is  a 
very  simple  one  with  very  few  species 
of  plants,  one  of  which  is  abundant 
and  others  not  at  all  (if  the  farmer  is 
tending  to  business).  Its  few  species 
of  animals  show  the  same  pattern  of 
relative  abundance — one  or  two  kinds 
of  insects  are  very  numerous  (pests, 
in  fact)  and  others  are  scarce.  An  old, 
abandoned  pasture  nearby  will  have 
more  species  of  both  plants  and 
animals  and  no  single  one  will  be 
dominant.  A  hardwood  forest  in  the 
same  area  will  have  still  more  species 
of  plants  and  animals  and  a  still  more 
even  distribution  of  numbers. 

Communities  that  differ  in  diversity  also 
differ  systematically  in  other  ways.  The 
species  that  live  in  communities  of  low 
diversify  have  higher  reproductive  rates 
and  shorter  life  cycles  than  do  the 
species  that  live  in  communities  of 
high  diversity.  The  old  pasture  has 
more  annual  plants  than  does  the 
more  diverse  forest,  and  the  perennial 
non-woody  plants  and  shrubs  of  the 
pasture  do  not  live  as  long  as  the 
trees  in  the  adjacent  forest.  The  same 
patterns  apply  to  the  animals  in  these 

In  a  simple  community  there  is  more 
basic  production  of  food  by  plants  per 
unit  of  living  material  than  in  a 
complex,  diverse  community.  Picture 
for  a  moment  the  old  pasture  at  the 
end  of  winter — there  are  a  few  shrubs 
and  some  seedling  trees  and  below 
ground  relatively  shallow  small  roots; 
the  dead  leaves  and  stems  of  the 
non-woody  plants  do  not  amount  to 
much.  Then  picture  the  same  field  in 
September  near  the  end  of  the  growing 
season — virtually  all  the  mass  of 
vegetation  one  sees  was  produced  that 
season.  The  ratio  of  that  mass  to  the 
amount  of  living  vegetation  present  in 
March  is  very  large.  Now,  let's  go 
through  the  same  procedure  with  the 
mixed  forest.  By  September  an 
enormous  mass  of  leaves  has  been 
produced.  But  the  ratio  of  that  mass  to 
the  great  weight  of  living  vegetation — 
trunks,  branches,  and  large  roots 
— present  at  the  start  of  the  season  is 
much  smaller  than  the  same  ratio  in 
the  less  diverse  old  pasture. 

If  we  think  of  the  living  material 
present  in  March  as  biological  capital. 

Bulletin    July/ August  1971 


production  relative  to  capital  is  low  in 
the  more  diverse  community  and  high 
in  the  less  diverse  one.  Very  little 
of  each  season's  production  becomes 
converted  into  capital  in  the  less 
diverse  community. 

The  final  ecological  quality  associated 
with  diversity  that  I  want  to  discuss  is 
stability.  Communities  of  low  diversity 
are  less  stable  than  those  of  high 
diversity.  Although  no  natural 
population  is  constant,  those  in 
complex,  highly  diverse  communities 
experience  relatively  minor  variations 
from  year  to  year.  Populations  in 
simple  communities,  on  the  other  hand, 
tend  to  oscillate  radically  over  short 
periods  of  time,  and  thus  be  exposed 
to  local  extinction.  This  fundamental 
difference  is  related  to  another  feature 
of  natural  communities,  namely,  the 
existence  of  feedback  systems. 

Imagine  a  community  with  one  species 
of  plant,  one  species  of  herbivore,  and 
one  species  of  predator.  These  three 
links  form  a  feedback  loop.  As  long 
as  the  numbers  of  herbivores  and 
predators  remain  within  certain  bounds, 
the  community  as  a  system  will  work. 
That  is,  enough  plants  will  be  eaten  to 
allow  room  for  growth  and 
reproduction,  but  not  too  many. 
Enough  herbivores  will  be  killed  to 
prevent  them  from  eating  up  their 
food,  but  not  too  many.  Let  one 
population — say  the  herbivore  (a 
jackrabbit — get  out  of  balance  by  a 
sudden  increase,  and  the  feedback  loop 
begins  to  have  an  effect.  The  predator 
— a  coyote  (unless  some  federal  agency 
in  its  infinite  wisdom  has  poisoned 
them  all) — begins  to  kill  more  and  its 
population  begins  to  increase.  In  a 

short  while  the  herbivore  population 
decreases,  which  then  causes  a  drop 
in  the  population  of  predators.  If  these 
checks  and  balances  did  not  operate, 
the  herbivore  population  would  soon 
increase  to  the  point  at  which  it  would 
literally  eat  itself  out  of  house  and 
home  and  the  entire  population  would 
starve  to  death.  The  predator 
population  would  then  become  extinct. 

Each  successive  increase  or  decrease 
is  not  perfectly  geared  to  the 
preceding  change.  Consequently,  a 
community  that  has  only  a  single 
feedback  loop  is  subject  to  an 
occasional  over-response  by  one 
population  that  may  cause  disruption 
of  the  entire  system.  But  if  a  number 
of  feedback  loops  exist,  they  may 
intersect  to  buffer  over-response  by  a 
single  link  in  one  loop.  If,  for  example, 
jackrabbits  become  scarce,  coyotes 
will  start  concentrating  on  mice,  giving 
the  rabbit  population  a  chance  to 

Each  species  has  its  own  characteristic 
way  of  life,  using  certain  resources  in 
a  particular  fashion  and  providing 
resources  in  turn  for  certain  other 
species.  Therefore,  the  more  species 
existing  in  a  community  (that  is,  the 
more  diverse  it  is),  the  more 
complicated  the  relationships  among 
species.  This  is  another  way  of  saying 
that  increasing  diversity  increases  the 
number  and  connections  among  the 
feedback  loops.  And,  as  we  have  just 
seen,  that  in  turn  increases  the  stability 
of  a  community.  This  is  why  highly 
diverse  communities  are  more  stable 
than  less  complex  ones. 

Now  for  the  armchair,  amateur 
economics.  I  hope  that  everyone  who 
reads  beyond  this  point  will  keep 
several  things  in  mind.  First,  these 
ideas  are  tentative.  I  offer  them,  not 
because  I  think  they  are  "true,"  but 
because  they  are  interesting.  Maybe  a 
genuine  economist  can  demolish 
them.  But  supposing  .  .  .?  Secondly, 
even  if  my  generalizations  are 
reasonably  close  to  correct,  there  are 
certain  to  be  exceptional  cases.  Not 
even  genuine  economists  can  claim 
absolute  universality  for  their  concepts. 
Finally,  I  intend  no  moral  judgments  in 
my  statements.  Of  course,  like  any 
other  person  I  have  feelings  about  the 
ways  in  which  people  interact.  But 
those  are  personal  matters,  and  I  will 
try  to  prevent  them  from  obtruding 

Human  communities,  whether  we  mean 
neighborhoods  or  entire  cities,  differ 
among  themselves  in  diversity  just  as 
do  natural  communities.  One  city  might 
be  dominated  by  a  single  type  of 
industry,  say  aerospace,  as  in  the  case 
of  Seattle.  Another  might  have  a 
number  of  kinds  of  industry  with  no 
one  of  them  dominant  in  the  sense  of 
being  the  major  base  of  the 
community's  economic  life. 

Or  suppose  we  compare  smaller 
human  communities.  Let's  take  two 
samples  from  a  large  city,  each  typical 
of  certain  kinds  of  neighborhoods.  And 
instead  of  talking  about  species  of 
plants  and  animals,  we  will  use 
occupations  to  give  us  a  measure  of 


Bulletin     July/ August  1971 

diversity.  Combining  neighborhoods, 
we  find  production  line  wori<ers, 
clerical  workers,  shopkeepers, 
managers,  lawyers,  physicians,  real 
estate  brokers,  teachers,  etc.  Suppose 
that  in  the  first  neighborhood  almost 
every  employed  person  falls  into  one 
occupation  category — the  production 
line  worker — whereas  in  the  second 
neighborhood  there  is  a  more  even 
distribution  of  occupations.  The  first 
community  has  low  diversity  and  the 
second  high  diversity.  Since 
neighborhoods  differing  in  these  ways 
differ  in  terms  of  average  individual 
income,  we  can  (and  usually  do)  refer 
to  them  as  poor  and  rich,  respectively. 

We  said  earlier  that  in  natural 

communities  of  low  diversity 
reproductive  rates  were  higher  and  life 
cycles  shorter  than  in  communities  of 
high  diversity.  And  where  in  human 
communities  do  we  find  high 
reproductive  rates  and  reduced  life 
expectancy?  In  the  poor  ones,  the 
communities  with  low  diversity. 
Regardless  of  our  feelings  about  these 
things,  women  in  poor  neighborhoods 
bear  children  at  an  earlier  age  and 
tend  to  have  more  children  than  do 
women  in  rich  communities.  Infant 
mortality  rates  and  morbidity  rates  from 
a  variety  of  diseases  are  higher  in 
poor,  low-diversity  communities, 
leading  to  reduced  life  expectancy — 
shorter  life  cycles. 

In  natural  plant  and  animal 
communities  we  found  a  high  ratio  of 
production  to  capital  associated  with 
low  diversity.  The  same  is  true  of 
human  communities  of  low  diversity: 
most  of  the  income  (the  equivalent  of 

production)  is  expended  and  converted 
into  things  that  are  consumed — food, 
clothing,  rent — and  very  little  is 
accumulated  as  capital — savings  in 
one  form  or  another.  On  the  other 
hand,  in  more  diverse  human 
communities,  the  richer  ones,  a  higher 
proportion  of  income  is  converted  into 
capital — savings,  stocks,  equity  in 
property,  etc. 

Another  aspect  of  the  same 
relationship  is  to  be  seen  in  the 
contrast  between  small  businesses 
operating  in  the  two  kinds  of 
communities.  It  is  my  impression  from 
personal  observation  and  reading  that 
the  ratio  of  profit  to  capital  investment 
is  higher  for  most  businesses  operating 
within  poor  neighborhoods  than  is  true 
for  businesses  in  richer  communities. 
A  shop  or  housing  unit  in  the  more 
diverse,  richer  neighborhood  usually 
provides  more  services,  more 
maintenance,  and  fancier  interiors 
(which  reduce  the  margin  of  profit)  than 
its  counterpart  in  a  poor  neighborhood. 

More  diverse  natural  communities  have 
greater  stability  than  less  diverse  ones. 
Similarly,  human  communities  of  high 
diversity  have  greater  stability.  An 
economic  disturbance  that  hits 
primarily  one  industry,  say  aerospace, 
will  have  a  far  more  serious  effect  on  a 
single-industry  community  than  on  one 
having  a  diverse  economy.  The  people 
of  Seattle  are  all  too  aware  of  this 
phenomenon.  A  country  that  exports 
essentially  one  commodity  suffers  more 
frequent  and  more  radical  economic 
ups  and  downs  than  a  country  that 
exports  a  variety  of  commodities  and 
products.  It  is  true  that  a  general 
recession  affects  an  entire  economic 
network,  but  the  neighborhood  or  city 
or  country  of  low  diversity  is  usually 
affected  first  and  usually  experiences 
more  unemployment,  more  disruption, 
than  the  more  diverse  community. 

We  do  not  yet  understand  all  the 
underlying  causes  of  the  economic 
relationships  within  and  among  natural 
communities.  This  problem  area  is 
increasingly  attracting  the  active 

attention  of  ecologists.  The  concern  of 
these  men  and  women  is  with  a  set  of 
problems  in  basic  science.  Their 
motivation  is  a  desire  to  understand 
more  about  the  rules  that  govern 
nature's  economics.  If  the  parallels 
between  natural  and  human 
communities  stand  after  close 
examination,  then  it  will  be  important 
for  economists  (in  the  usual  sense) 
and  ecologists  to  work  together  in  an 
attempt  to  understand  the  basis  of  the 

Dr.  Robert  F.  Inger  is  chairman  ot  Scientific 
Programs,  Field  Museum. 

Bulletin     July/August  1971 


The  Lunar  Rocks 

By  Brian  Mason  and  William  G.  Melson. 
New  York:  Wlley-lnterscience,  1970.  179 
pp.  $8.95. 

Whether  scientifically  inclined  or  not,  one  is 
bound  to  be  at  least  curious  about  the 
results  of  the  costly  current  Apollo  lunar 
program.  Most  taxpayers  fail  to  see  that  the 
main  purpose  of  the  program  is  simply  to 
demonstrate  the  successful  engineering 
systems  that  permit  us  to  send  men  to  the 
moon  and  bring  them  back  alive.  This  was 
the  original  impetus  and  motive  of  the 
program — to  show  that  it  could  be  done 
technically.  Thus  it  is  similar  in  its  purpose 
to  the  climbing  of  Mt.  Everest,  which  was 
done  "because  it  was  there." 

It  seemed  desirable  to  have  the  men  do 
something  on  the  lunar  surface  once  they 
got  there,  and  the  sampling  of  lunar  rocks 
was  the  most  obvious  something.  Originally 
the  geological  profession  was  overjoyed 
with  the  whole  idea.  It  could  not  have  been 
foreseen  that  years  later,  when  criticism  of 
the  cost  of  the  program  would  arise,  the 
geological  results,  although  secondary  in  the 
project,  would  have  to  bear  the  brunt  of  the 
scrutiny  of  critics,  who  would  ask  questions 
like  "What  are  the  results  worth?"  On  earth, 
geologists  have  always  been  able  to  point 
to  practical  achievement  in  petroleum  and 
mineral  production.  With  lunar  geology,  any 
such  practical  results  must  obviously  be 

Be  that  as  it  may,  Drs.  Mason  and  Melson 
(both  of  the  U.S.  National  Museum)  have 
succeeded  very  well  in  distilling  the 
thousands  of  pages  of  technical  data  that 
have  been  published  in  several  journals  on 
the  Apollo  11  and  12  specimens.  Their 
book  hits  the  middle  ground  between  a 
popularized  account  of  the  science  writer 
and  a  highly  technical  report  of  the  specialist. 

Descriptions  of  all  individual  minerals 
determined  in  all  lunar  samples  and  of  the 
several  rock  types,  solid  rocks, 

microbreccias,  and  "soils"  are  treated  in 
detail  in  separate  chapters.  Clear 
comparisons  and  contrasts  are  made 
between  the  somewhat  different  rocks  of  the 
two  different  collection  sites,  11  and  12. 
The  verbal  descriptions  are  augmented  by 
many  well-chosen  figures,  both  graphs  and 
photos.  The  latter  are  printed  with  a  very 
fine  screen  which  makes  for  excellent 
definition  and  detail.  Chemical  abundances 
and  known  isotopic  abundances  are  laid 
out  by  increasing  atomic  number  over  the 
whole  stable  portion  of  the  periodic  table. 
Finally,  the  several  hypotheses  regarding  the 
interior  makeup  of  the  moon  and  how  it 
formed  as  a  sister  planet  to  Earth  are 
reviewed  and  evaluated  in  the  light  of  the 
evidence  from  the  rocks. 

The  book  has  only  a  few  shortcomings.  The 
puzzling  large  discrepancies  in  ages 
between  the  solid  rocks  and  the  fine-grained 
"soils"  are  treated  only  briefly;  there  is  no 
discussion  of  the  several  theories  which 
attempt  to  resolve  this  serious  difficulty.  The 
original  worry  over  organic  forms  and 
compounds  in  lunar  materials  necessitated 
the  elaborate  and  much-publicized  isolation 
period  for  both  astronauts  and  samples,  but 
the  results  of  organic  studies,  though 
admittedly  all  negative,  are  treated  only 
cursorily  within  the  discussion  of  the 
element  carbon.  The  geophysical 
experiments  and  puzzling  seismic  properties 
of  the  moon  are  not  discussed  at  all,  nor 
are  the  interesting  thermoluminescent  and 
related  optical  features. 

The  book  is  an  excellent  distillation  of  the 
voluminous  geological-geochemical  data 
which  make  up  the  bulk  of  the  Apollo 
reports  thus  far.  It  serves  as  a  concise 
reference  for  persons  in  the  geological 
profession,  and  for  those  in  physics, 
chemistry,  and  astronomy  who  are  willing  to 
wrestle  with  a  few  new  terms.  The  very 
astute  and  deeply  involved  amateur  rock 
and  mineral  collector  will  also  be  able  to 
glean  some  useful  material  here.  The 
general  reader,  unfortunately,  will  find  it 
tough  sledding,  and  might  do  better  to  go  to 
other  books  such  as  Moon  Rocks  by  Henry 
S.  F.  Cooper,  Jr.  (Dial  Press,  1970,  144 
pages,  $4.50). 

by  Dr.  Edward  J.  Olsen,  curator  ot 
mineralogy  in  the  Department  of  Geology, 
Field  Museum. 

Baboon  Ecology — African  Field  Research 

By  Stuart  A.  Altmann  and  Jeanne  Altmann. 
Chicago:  University  of  Chicago  Press,  1970 
(publ.  date,  Feb.  23,  1971).  220  pp.  $12. 

I  would  recommend  this  book  to  certain 
kinds  of  readers  as  an  example  of  how 
good  scientists  think.  It  is  unlike  most 
papers  in  technical  journals  today,  in  which 

publication  costs  force  editors  and  authors 
to  eschew  tentative  models,  historical 
reviews,  and  educated  guesses.  In  the 
Altmanns'  book,  the  basic  materials  are 
succinctly  offered,  but  are  also  subjected  to 
statistical  analyses,  model  fitting,  and 
comparisons  with  general  behavioral  and 
ecological  principles.  Questions  for  the 
future  are  noted  throughout  the  book,  and 
a  chapter  at  the  end  speculates  on  a  few 
special  topics.  The  book  could  be  a 
considerable  education  to  many  a  student 
confident  that  all  is  known  or  predictable, 
and  to  young  researchers  unsure  of  where 
to  start  in  a  field. 

I  would  not  recommend  this  slim  volume  to 
the  general  reader  as  a  comprehensive 
treatise  on  baboon  ecology,  for  it  is  not, 
despite  the  title.  It  is,  rather,  a  detailed 
technical  account  of  the  yellow  baboons  of 
the  Amboseli  Reserve  in  Kenya  and  their 
relations  to  the  environment.  Topics  covered 
include  population  dynamics,  activity  cycles, 
group  movements,  wafer  and  food, 
predators,  and  other  associated  animals. 
A  goodly  amount  of  material  from  the 
literature  on  other  baboons  is  sprinkled 
through  the  text.  The  book  is  essentially  a 
by-product  of  the  main  thrust  of  the  authors' 
field  studies,  the  social  behavior  of  the 
baboons,  an  account  of  which  the  authors 
promise  will  be  forthcoming. 

Primatologists  are  apt  to  finish  the  book 
with  a  highly  stimulated  appetite  for  more 
data  and  answers.  Presumably  the  authors 
will  provide  more  material  as  a  result  of 
work  following  their  one-year  period 
(1963-64)  at  Amboseli  that  is  the  core  of 
this  study.  Since  this  initial  research,  the 
area  and  the  animals  have  come  under  a 
set  of  stresses  that  should  be  most 
interesting  for  a  long-term  dynamic  view  of 
the  ecology.  The  stresses  include  the 
decimating  effects  of  virus  diseases  on  the 
baboons  and  predators,  a  salt-brush 
succession  in  Amboseli  with  a  rising  water 
table,  and  mounting  human  environmental 
pressures,  increasingly  meaning  those  from 

The  present-day  situation  potentially  could 
tell  us  much  about  limits  of  the  yellow 
baboon's  ecological  niche.  Presumably  the 
animals  do  have  considerable  evolutionary 
resilience,  but  a  combination  of  adversities 
may  outstrip  their  capacity  for  adjustment. 
For  such  a  fuller  understanding  we  need 
further  studies  at  Amboseli  comparable  to 
this  sophisticated  baseline  and  to 
complementary  work  elsewhere  (like  the 
investigations  of  the  Transvaal  baboons  in 
South  Africa  by  Stolz  and  Saayman). 

by  Dr.  George  Rabb,  associate  director, 
research  and  education,  Brookfield  Zoo, 
Brookfield,  Illinois,  and  research 
associate  at  Field  Museum. 


Bulletin     July /August  1971 

Who's  Where  This  Summer 

Dr.  William  Burger,  associate  curator  of 
vascular  plants,  leaves  for  Costa  Rica  in 
early  July  to  continue  collecting  the  flora  of 
that  country.  The  expedition  is  financed  by 
a  National  Science  Foundation  grant. 

Dr.  John  Clark,  associate  curator  of 
sedimentary  petrology,  is  studying 
biostratigraphic  structures  and  the 
environment  of  deposition  in  South  Dakota, 
Utah,  Wyoming,  and  Colorado.  Orville 
Gilpin,  chief  preparator,  is  accompanying 
Dr.  Clark. 

Dr.  John  Kethley,  assistant  curator  of 
insects,  will  be  conducting  field  trips  in 
Illinois  and  the  central  Midwest  area  to 
collect  mites  found  on  millipedes.   He  will 
also  give  some  lectures  at  Ohio  State 
University  while  taking  a  course  there  in 
parasitic  mites. 

Dr.  Paul  Martin,  curator  emeritus  of 
anthropology,  is  in  Vernon,  Arizona 
continuing  his  "New  Perspectives  in 
Archaeology"  summer  program  for  high 
ability  college  sophomores  and  juniors, 
conducted  under  a  National  Science 
Foundation  grant. 

Dr.  Matthew  H.  Nitecki,  associate  curator  of 

fossil  invertebrates,  will  be  doing 
biostratigraphic  and  paleoecologic  collecting 
of  Receptaculitids  in  the  Midwest  and 
Southwest  in  August  and  September. 

Dr.  Alan  Solem,  curator  of 
invertebrates,  will  attend  the  Fourth 
European  Malacological  Congress  in 
Geneva,  Switzerland  September  5-12. 

Dr.  William  Turnbull,  associate  curator  of 
fossil  mammals,  will  continue  his  collecting 
of  fossil  vertebrates  of  the  mid-late  Eocene 
in  the  Washakie  Basin  of  Wyoming  and 

Dr.  Bertram  G.  Woodland,  curator  of  igneous 
and  metamorphic  petrology,  will  collect 

data  pertinent  to  the  unraveling  of  the 
deformational  history  of  a  structurally 
complex  metamorphic  area  in  central 

Dr.  Rainer  Zangerl,  chairman  of  the 
Department  of  Geology,  and  Dr.  Eugene 
Richardson,  curator  of  fossil  invertebrates, 
will  present  a  paper  on  paleoecology  at  the 
Seventh  International  Congress  of 
Carboniferous  Stratigraphy  and  Geology  at 
Krefeld,  Germany  August  23  to  Sept.  3. 

Enjoy,  Enjoy 

Summer  is  an  especially  good  time  to  see 
what's  happening  at  Field  Museum — special 
exhibits,  films,  guided  tours.   Please  take 
note  of  our  special  long  summer  hours  for 
both  the  Museum  and  cafeteria,  listed  in 
Calendar.  Be  sure  to  bring  your  membership 
card.   Remember  that  admission  is  free  at 
all  times  to  Museum  members,  their  families, 
and  guests. 

This  is  a  combined  July/August  issue  of 
the  Bulletin.   The  next  issue  will  be 
published  in  September. 

Workshop  for  the  Blind 

Atlantic  Richfield  Gift 

Fifty  individuals  Irom  the  Illinois  Visually 
Handicapped  Institute  recently  visited  the 
Museum  to  explore  some  ol  the  artilacts  in 
the  Department  ol  Education's  teaching 
collection.  They  discovered  such  objects  as 
lions'  teeth,  talking  drums, .and  shells. 
Above,  a  young  lady  interacts  v/ith  a 
contemporary  African  talking  drum  Irom 
Ghana.  "Thank  you,"  said  one  ol  the 
visitors,  "I  have  never  seen  these  things 

Edward  J.  Gazelle,  Manager  ol  Public 
Relations,  Midcontinent  Area,  Atlantic 
Richfield  Company,  shov/n  with  Museum 
Director  E.  Leiand  Webber  (right)  foflowing 
presentation  ol  a  check  for  $2,500 
representing  an  unrestricted  gilt  Irom  the 
Atlantic  Richfield  Foundation  to  Field 

Atlantic  Richfield,  a  New  'York  based  firm,  Is 
now  active  in  the  Chicagoland  area  lollowing 
a  merger  with  the  Sinclair  Oil  Company. 

Unrestricted  contributions  totaling  $616,000 
are  needed  by  Field  Museum  to  meet  its 
operating  budget  of  $3,919,000  lor  1971. 
This  amount  is  over  and  above  anticipated 
income  Irom  tax  support,  memberships, 
admissions,  and  other  available  funds. 

Phil  Clark's  Natural  History  Tours 

With  termination  this  summer  of  Field 
Museum's  Natural  History  Tours,  Phil  Clark, 
who  has  headed  the  program  since  its 
inception  in  1967,  will  set  up  his  own 
program,  Phil  Clark's  Natural  History  Tours, 
at  520  North  Michigan  Avenue,  Chicago, 

Mr.  Clark  led  tours  for  Field  Museum  to 
Guatemala,  Mexico,  Brazil,  northeast  India 
and  Nepal,  British  Gardens,  the  Andes  and  • 
Galapagos  Islands,  and  Scandinavia.  He 
also  served  as  Public  Relations  Counsel  for 
Field  Museum  from  May  1966  to  the  fall  of 
1969.  Before  coming  to  Field  Museum,  he 
served  as  Public  Relations  Officer  for  the 
New  York  Botanical  Garden,  as  Editor  of 
Horticulture  Magazine,  and  as  Garden  Editor 
for  Mexican  publications. 

He  will  lead  tours  for  his  new  firm  this 
fall  to  South  India,  and  in  winter  1972  to 
Africa,  East  and  West. 

Bulletin    July/August  1971 



To  the  editor: 

As  a  life  member  tliis  past  year  (and  former 
annual  one)  I  get  the  Bulletin  and  enjoyed 
the  recent  issue  [March],  especially  the 
long  article  by  Paul  S.  Martin.  After  reading 
it  and  turning  thru  the  rest  of  the  publication, 
I  came  to  "Fieldiana"  by  Patricia  M. 

Your  reference  to  G.  A.  Dorsey  (whose  first 
name  I  recall  as  George)  brought  back  old 
memories.  While  he  may  never  have  been 
on  the  faculty  of  the  U.  of  Chicago,  his 
name  was  well  known  there,  especially  in 
the  Department  of  Anthropolgy  and  related 
sciences.   I  took  two  courses  there,  between 
1910  and  1913,  from  Frederick  Starr,  an 
associate  professor  since  1891  in  that  field, 
who  was  never  made  a  full  professor 
because,  it  was  generally  said,  he  was  more 
of  a  character  than  an  acknowledged 
authority.  He  had  brought  some  of  the 
aboriginal  exhibits  to  the  World's  Fair  1893 
on  its  famous  "Midway."   Maybe  that  led  to 
his  appointment  in  1893  and  not  1891. 

Starr  was  a  lovable  man  and  his  wise 
sayings  on  innumerable  subjects  may  have 
been  worth  more  than  what  he  was 
supposed  to  teach.   His  courses  were 
generally  considered  "pipe"  ones,  havens 
for  members  of  the  football  team,  etc. 
(Shades  of  hymn-singing  Amos  Alonzo 
Stagg!)  No  one  was  ever  flunked  by  Starr, 
and  he  would  stand  for  everything  but 
downright  rudeness  by  a  student.  Then  he 
would  wither  his  taunter,  but  otherwise  he 

would  laugh  at  any  honest  joke  or  light 

flippancy.   He  gave  parties  in  Haskell  Hall 
at  the  end  of  each  course  (entertainment  by 
himself  and  volunteer  students),  and  always 
served  cake  and  ice  cream  at  the  end  of 
the  evening.  The  ice  cream,  made  by  a 
local  well-known  outfit  named  Morse,  was 
always  the  same,  bricks  of  five  colors  and 
flavors  to  resemble,  as  he  said,  the  five 
races  of  Man.   (I  could  never  figure  out 
more  than  four.)  When  he  retired  in  the 
1920's,  his  former  students  got  together  and 
gave  him  a  cash  purse  of  $15,000.   No  more 
tangible  evidence  of  devotion  was  ever 
shown  than  that.  With  the  money  he  bought 
a  home  in  Seattle,  where  he  lived  out  the 
rest  of  his  days.   I  used  to  hear  from  him 
almost  annually,  a  card  sometimes  from  far 
places,  from  the  time  I  graduated  in  1913 
until  near  his  end.  All  other  former  students 
got  the  same  communications 

But  to  return  to  Dorsey.  He  wrote  a  weekly 
column  in  the  Sunday  Tribune,  and  when 
World  War  I  started  in  August,  1914,  he 
analyzed  the  causes  in  one  of  his  first 
articles  thereafter.  As  he  put  it,  it  was  a 
struggle  between  Pan-Slavism  and 
Pan-Germanism.  That  was  from  his  own 
particular  point  of  view.  Actually,  it  was  a 
struggle  between  "Who  gets,  or  wants, 
what"  as  Dorothy  Thompson  was  to  say  in 
a  speech  I  heard,  about  World  War  II.  All 
wars  are  for  such  ends,  no  matter  what 
"idealistic"  claims  are  made  by  the 
contenders.  We  entered  World  Wars  I  and  II 
only  when  they  began  to  hurt  us.  The 
Lusitania  was  sunk  in  1915  and  we  did 
nothing.  Wilson  told  us  to  remain  neutral. 
But  when  our  money,  already  loaned,  was 
seen  likely  to  go  down  the  drain,  we  got 
into  the  fray.  The  same  25  years  later. 
Hitler's  atrocities  did  not  force  us  in,  but  his 
victories  and  consequent  ultimate  threats  to 
us.  So  much  for  poor  old  Dorsey  and  his 
narrow  theories  of  causes. 

Alan  D.  Whitney 
Winnetka,  Illinois 

To  the  editor: 

As  a  veteran  visitor  of  the  halls  of  the 
Museum  of  many  years'  enjoyment,  I  want  to 
compliment  you  and  your  staff  on  the  recent 
improvement  of  the  format  of  the  Bulletin. 
I  note  from  the  letters  that  you  have  had 
many  compliments,  and  I  affirm  that  they 
are  well-earned. 

For  some  time  I  have  been  holding  the 
March  Bulletin  on  my  desk  as  a  reminder  to 
write.   1  first  was  struck  by  the  brilliant 
spread  on  the  photography  show.   I  like  the 
calendar — I  immediately  found  what  1  was 
looking  for — an  evening  1  can  meet  my 
daughter  at  the  Museum. 

Cliff  G.  h4assoth 

Director  of  Public  Relations  and  Advertising 

Illinois  Central  Railroad 


Please  address  all  letters  to  the  editor  to 


Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 
Roosevelt  Road  and  Lake  Shore  Drive 
Chicago,  Illinois  60605 

The  editors  reserve  the  right  to  edit  letters 
for  length. 


Bulletin     July/August  1971 



Begins  July  12 

Deerskin  Jacket  with  painted  decoration 
depicting  warriors  on  horsebacl<,  displayed 
in  the  South  Lounge.  A  recent  gift  of 
Mrs.  Richard  D.  Stevenson,  the  jacket  was 
coliected  by  her  grandfather,  Carter  H. 
Harrison  III,  in  the  early  part  of  this  century 
from  the  Sioux,  probably  of  the  Pine  Ridge 
Agency.  Through  September  5. 


Cotor  in  Nature,  an  exhibit  examining  the 
nature  and  variety  of  color  in  the  physical 
and  living  world,  and  how  it  functions  in 
plants  and  animals.  It  focuses  on  the  many 
roles  of  color,  as  in  mimicry,  camouflage, 
warning,  sexual  recognition  and  selection, 
energy  channeling,  and  vitamin  production, 
using  Museum  specimens  as  examples. 
Through  November  28.  Hall  25. 

The  Afro-American  Style,  From  the  Design 
Worl<s  of  Bedford-Stuyvesant,  an  exhibit  of 
textiles  blending  classical  African  motifs  and 
contemporary  design.  The  original  Field 
Museum  Benin  artifacts  which  inspired 
many  of  the  designs  are  also  shown. 
Financial  assistance  for  the  exhibit  was 
received  from  the  CNA  Foundation,  Chicago. 
Through  September  12.  Hall  9. 

John  James  Audubon's  elephant  folio.  The 
Birds  of  America,  on  display  in  the  North 
Lounge.  A  different  plate  from  the  rare, 
first-edition  volumes  is  featured  each  day. 

75th  Anniversary  Exhibit:  A  Sense  of 

Wonder,  A  Sense  of  History,  A  Sense  of 
Discovery,  uses  dramatic  display  techniques 
to  explore  Field  Museum's  past  and  present, 
and  some  of  its  current  research  projects. 
Continues  indefinitely.  Hall  3. 

Children's  Programs 

Free  Movies  at  10  a.m.  and  1  p.m.  on 
Thursdays  in  the  James  Simpson  Theatre. 

July  8 — "Zoos  Around  the  World" 

A  visit  to  some  world-famous  animals  in 
world-famous  zoos. 

July  15 — "Adventures  of  an  Otter" 

A  delightful  story  about  a  mischievous  otter. 

July  22 — "Living  Jungles" 

All  about  animals  and  plants  in  a  tropical 
rain  forest. 

July  29 — "The  Red  Balloon" 

The  adventures  of  a  big  red  balloon  and 
its  pet,  a  little  boy. 

"Dinosaur  Hunt,"  Summer  Journey  for 
Children,  acquaints  youngsters  with 
prehistoric  animals  in  Museum  exhibits  and 
paintings  through  a  free,  self-guided  tour. 
All  boys  and  girls  who  can  read  and  write 
may  participate.  Journey  sheets  are  available 
at  Museum  entrances.  Through  August  31. 

Film  and  Tour  Program 


Free  Natural  History  Film  "Patterns  for 

Survival"  (A  Study  of  Mimicry)  presented  at 
11  a.m.  and  1  p.m.  on  Saturday,  and  11  a.m., 
1  p.m.,  and  3  p.m.  on  Sunday  in  the  second 
floor  Meeting  Room.  The  half-hour  film 
offers  an  overall  view  of  protective  coloration 
in  insects  and  provides  visitors  with  an 
insight  into  the  "Color  in  Nature"  exhibit. 
Through  September. 

Begins  July  6 

Free  Guided  Tour  of  Field  Museum  exhibit 
areas  leaves  from  the  North  information 
booth  at  2  p.m.  Monday  through  Friday. 
A  color  motion  picture,  "Through  These 
Doors,"  focusing  on  behind-the-scenes 
activities  at  the  Museum,  is  shown  at  3  p.m. 
in  the  Lecture  Hall,  following  the  tour. 
Through  September  3. 


July  14:  7:30  p.m..  Windy  City  Grotto, 

National  Speleological  Society 

August  11:  7:30  p.m.,  Windy  City  Grotto, 

National  Speleological  Society 

Coming  in  September 

"Between  the  Tides,"  Fall  Journey  for 
Children  beginning  September  1,  takes  them 
shell  hunting  for  exotic  and  beautiful 
specimens  in  the  Museum  exhibit  areas.  All 
youngsters  who  can  read  and  write  are 
welcome  to  join  in  the  activity.  Journey 
sheets  are  available  at  Museum  entrances. 
Through  November  30. 


9  a.m.  to  6  p.m.  Monday,  Tuesday,  and  Thursday; 
Museum  cafeteria  open  9  a.m.  to  2  P  m. 

9  a.m.  to  9  p.m.  Wednesday,  Friday,  Saturday, 
and  Sunday:  Museum  cafeteria  open  9  a.m. 
to  7:30  p.m. 

The  Museum  Library  Is  open  9  a.m.  to  4:30  p.m. 
Monday  through  Friday 

Volume  42,  Number  8         September  1971 

Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 



Volume  42,  Number  8 
September  1971 

Cover:  Montage  of  photos  taken  by  Dr.  Phillip  H. 
Lewis  in  New  Ireland  In  1954  and  1970.  Above 
photo  from  montage  shows  strong  Western  influence 
on  malanggan  ceremonial  art  of  1970. 

2    New  Ireland:  Coming  and  Going  1970 

Phillip  H.  Lewis 

an  anthropologist  of  today  revisits  a  Melanesian  village 
after  sixteen  years  and  finds  much  change  in  traditional 
art  and  ceremony 

10   Why  Was  William  Jones  Killed? 

Barbara  Stoner 

an  anthropologist  of  yesteryear  meets  disaster  in  the 

Philippines  after  sixteen  months  of  field  work 

14  Book  Reviews 

15  Field  Briefs 

16  Children's  Workshops 

Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 

Director,  E.  Leland  Webber 

Editor  Joyce  ZIbro;  Associate  Editor  Elizabeth  Munger; 
Fred  Huysmans. 

Staff  Writer  Madge  Jacobs;  Production  Russ  Becker;  Photography  John  Bayalis, 

The  Bulletin  is  published  monthly  except  August  by  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois 
60605.  Subscriptions;  $9  a  year;  $3  a  year  for  schools.  Members  of  the  Museum  subscribe  through  Museum  membership.  Opinions  expressed 
by  authors  are  their  own  and  do  not  necessarily  reflect  the  policy  ot  Field  Museum.  Unsolicited  manuscripts  are  welcome.  Application  to  mail 
at  second-class  postage  rates  is  pending  at  Chicago,  Illinois.  Postmaster;  Please  send  form  3579  to  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History, 
Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605. 


new  Ireland: 

coming  and  going  1970 

phllllp  h.  lewis 


An  anthropologist's  view  of  the  people 
he  studies  is  complex.  First  of  all,  he 
comes  to  them  with  previously 
acquired  scholarly  knowledge  of  their 
history  and  their  culture,  both  material 
and  nonmaterial.  Second,  the 
anthropologist  has  often  learned  more 
about  certain  aspects  of  their  life  than 
many  members  of  the  society 
themselves  know.  This  is  particularly 
true  when  he  has  gained  an  historical 
view  of  their  culture  or  a  regional 
overview,  neither  of  which  is  usually 
possible  for  people  who  live  in  a 
small,  nonliterate,  and  isolated  society. 
Third,  the  personal  relationships  the 
anthropologist  develops  while  living 
with  a  people  may  lead  to  knowledge 
and  feelings  that  differ  from  his  prior 
scholarly  knowledge  and  expectations. 

For  these  reasons  (and  many  others) 
an  anthropological  field  trip  is  often  an 
emotionally  moving,  even  trying, 
experience.   Perceptions  shift  as 
abstractions  and  personal  involvements 
must  be  accommodated.  Besides  this 
difficult  intellectual  adjustment,  the 
anthropologist  must  also  adjust  from 
living  an  urbanized  Western  life  to 
living  in  a  tiny  village  in  a  culture  close 
to  subsistence  level.  During  my  stay  in 
New  Ireland  last  year  I  had  to  make 
these  adjustments  and  at  the  same 
time  compare  my  current  observations 
with  my  recollections  of  life  in  New 
Ireland  in  1954  when  I  had  last  been 

My  feelings  about  these  adjustments 
seemed  most  acute  during  two 
particular  periods.  One  was  the  first 
few  days  of  arrival;  the  other,  the  last 
few  days  as  I  left  to  return  home. 
These  were  periods  of  heightened 
sensitivity  for  me,  in  that  they  were 
like  passing  through  rites  of  transition 
between  our  two  cultures. 

From  January  3,  1970  until  December 
7,  1970  1  lived  in  Lesu  (official 
spelling,  "Lossu"),  a  village  on  the 

Karake,  left,  and  Biga,  right,  performing  Pondewasi 
dance  at  author's  farewell  party.  Their  kapkap 
breast  ornaments,  formerly  made  of  shell,  are 
now  made  of  paper. 

northeast  coast  of  New  Ireland  in 
Melanesia  in  order  to  continue  my 
study  of  New  Ireland  art  and  its  social 
context.  I  had  begun  this  work  in 
1953-54,  when  my  wife  and  I  lived  in 
Lesu  for  seven  months.  In  the 
intervening  years,  I  had  studied 
collections  of  art  and  other  cultural 
objects  from  New  Ireland  found  in 
museums  in  several  parts  of  the  world. 
When  I  returned  to  New  Ireland  in 
1970,  sponsored  by  the  National 
Science  Foundation  and  Field  Museum, 
it  was  with  a  suitcase  full  of 
photographs  of  those  specimens  to 
show  to  New  Irelanders,  in  an  attempt 
to  learn  more  about  this  fascinating 
art  and  the  social  and  ceremonial 
system  within  which  it  functions. 

New  Ireland  art  consists  mostly  of 
fantastic,  filigreed,  painted  wood 
sculpture  representations  of  human, 
animal,  and  supernatural  beings,  often 
intertwined  with  floral  designs.  They 
range  from  relatively  simple  figures  to 
exceedingly  complex  multiple  images 
carved  on  "totem-pole"-like  columns 
to  masks  and  various  minor 
accessories  such  as  dance 
paraphernalia,  musical  instruments, 
canoe  ornaments,  and  house 
ornaments.  All  this  is  known  to  the 
Western  world  through  over  15,000 
objects  in  various  museums,  most  of 
which  were  collected  while  New 
Ireland  was  a  German  colony  from 
1884  to  1914.  The  majority  of  New 
Ireland  art  objects  are  in  German 
museums,  the  largest  collection  in 
Berlin's  Museum  fur  Volkerkunde,  and 
second  largest  in  Field  Museum. 

It  is  too  soon  to  write  here  of  the 
results  of  showing  the  museum 
photographs.  I  have  yet  to  complete 
analyzing  the  many  responses, 
searching  for  the  meanings  of  the 
many  different  statements  about 
specific  objects,  sorting  out  and 
reconciling  contradictions,  correlating 
responses  from  the  various  informants 
and  data  from  the  published  literature, 
and  relating  everything  to  my  ideas  of 
how  the  whole  system  worked. 

I  was  also  able  to  observe  present-day 
survivals  of  the  malanggan  ceremonials 
(memorials  for  the  dead,  for  which 
much  of  the  art  was  made)  and  to 
study  social  change  since  1953  and 
earlier  in  my  home  village,  Lesu. 

As  I  drove  toward  Lesu  my  feelings 
were  a  mixture  of  excitement  and 
anticipation  at  seeing  the  village  and 
its  people  again  after  sixteen  years 
and  some  apprehension  about  possibly 
unpleasant  changes.  I  hadn't  written 
ahead,  and  no  one  knew  that  I  was 
returning.  I  wasn't  particularly  worried 
about  that — I  knew  that  I  could  just 
arrive  and  be  welcome — but  I  wasn't 
sure  about  what  temporary  difficulties 
would  arise;  for  example,  in  the  kind  of 
housing  I  could  obtain,  and  the  kind  of 
life  I'd  have  to  lead  in  the  first  few 
days.  In  1953  I  hadn't  had  a  car,  and 
my  wife  and  I  had  arrived  with  many 
cases  of  supplies  on  a  truck  owned  by 
a  local  villager.  We  lived  in  the  haus 
kiap  (Pidgin  for  government  rest 
house).  By  1970  the  system  of 
administration  had  changed  in  that  the 
government  official,  the  kiap,  drove 
everywhere,  making  rest  houses 
obsolete.  I  knew  that  there  was  a 
Women's  Clubhouse  in  Lesu  in  which 
I  might  be  able  to  live,  but  that  had 
not  yet  been  arranged.  I  had  been  in 
Kavieng,  New  Ireland's  principal  town 
and  port,  for  a  few  days,  where  I  took 
delivery  of  the  car  I  was  to  use  and 
bought  supplies,  before  heading  for 
Lesu  down  the  East  Coast  Road. 

The  road  had  been  built  in  German 
colonial  times,  before  1914.  In  1953  it 
was  narrow  and  barely  passable,  with 
deep  ruts  and  potholes.  The 
eighty-mile  trip  to  Lesu  then  seemed 
like  a  day's  uncomfortable  drive.  In 
1970,  however,  I  found  myself  passing 
the  villages  of  Tandes  and  Libba 
(eight  and  six  miles  north  of  Lesu)  in 
under  two  hours,  so  improved  had  the 
road  become. 

1  drove  by  these  villages  I  had  known 
thinking  the  houses  looked  small  and 
weatherbeaten.  Was  Lesu  going  to  look 


new  Ireland 

that  way,  too?  I  thought  glumly  of  the 
possibility  of  Lesu  with  rusting  iron 
roofs  and  other  unlovely  results  of 
"progress."  Would  the  people  still  be 
as  cheerful  and  positive  and  outgoing 
as  I  remembered  them,  or  would  they 
have  become  reserved,  withdrawn, 
sullen,  perhaps  even  hostile?  I  had 
seen  some  signs  of  that  in  the  bigger 
towns  such  as  Port  tvloresby  and 

Soon!  was  passing  the  entrance  to 
No.  2  Lesu  (the  Catholic  half  of  the 
village),  just  north  of  No.  1  Lesu  (the 
Protestant  United  Church  half).  There 
was  the  new  brick  primary  school  and 
finally  there  were  the  houses  of  No.  1 
Lesu  itself.  I  stopped  at  the  side  of  the 
road  and  looked.  Nothing  looked  as  I 
remembered  it.   The  layout  of  the 
village  was  different  and  the  houses 
all  seemed  to  have  shifted  position. 
Tree-bordered  paths  had  changed  to 
an  open  treeless  plaza.  In  1953  many 
of  the  houses  were  raised  a  few  feet  off 
the  ground  on  piles.  Now  they  looked 
tiny,  squat,  close  to  the  ground,  only  a 
few  of  them  raised  on  short  posts. 

I  had  just  traveled  through  many  large 
metropolitan  centers — Honolulu, 
Auckland,  Melbourne,  Adelaide, 
Sydney — and  had  come  from  Chicago. 
In  contrast,  Lesu  looked  tiny,  its 
houses  seemingly  too  small  to  house 
full-sized  people.  The  houses  did 
seem  mostly  to  be  made  in  the  style  I 
remembered  from  1953,  with  peaked, 
sago-leaf-thatched  roofs  and  split 
bamboo  walls  nailed  to  sapling 
frameworks.  That  hadn't  changed, 
although  I  saw  a  couple  of  houses 
with  flat,  sloping  iron  roofs. 

I  pulled  into  one  of  the  openings  in  the 
low  stone  wall  between  the  village 
and  the  road,  unwittingly  using  the 
very  one  I  would  use  often  during  the 
coming  months,  the  one  leading  to  the 
Women's  Clubhouse.  I  stopped  the 
car  and  got  out. 

Some  people  approached,  and  I 
began  to  regret  not  having  written 
ahead  to  say  I  was  coming  as  I 

scanned  their  faces,  not  recognizing 
anyone.  Could  they  all  have  changed 
so  that  everyone  was  unrecognizable? 
I  began  talking  in  rusty  Pidgin  English, 
casting  about  in  memory  for  names. 
Faced  with  a  half  dozen  Lesuans,  I 
couldn't  think  of  a  single  one. 
Suddenly  the  name  Biga  came  to 
mind,  possibly  because  I  had  turned 
into  Lesu  right  where  his  house  had 
been  in  1953.  I  asked  for  him.  Some 
children  indicated  him  approaching.   It 
was  indeed  Biga,  tall,  spare, 
bespectacled  (nickname.  Eyeglass).  He 
had  been  the  Methodist  minister  of 
No.  1  Lesu  in  1953,  and  here  he 
came,  walking  over  to  see  who  was 
coming  to  visit  Lesu.  I  involuntarily 
glanced  at  his  eyeglasses,  even  before 
greeting  him,  to  see  if  they  were  the 
same  pair  I  had  left  with  him  in  1954, 
when  he  had  complained  of  poor 
eyesight  and  had  asked  for  my  spare 
set.  These  were  different,  I  was 
relieved  to  see.  But  it  was  Biga, 
marvelously  recognizable,  and  as  we 
greeted  each  other,  with  tears  in  our 
eyes,  I  knew  I  was  home  again  in  Lesu. 
Soon  other  old  friends  came  forward 
and  the  welcome  deepened.  My  wife, 
Sally,  and  I  had  been  especially 
friendly  with  a  group  of  high  school 
boys  in  1953-54 — Kuba,  Karake, 
Marangot,  Emos,  and  others — and  here 
they  were,  young  men  in  their  thirties. 

Where  was  Sally,  many  people  asked? 
I  showed  photographs  of  my  family, 
which  proved  to  be  a  favorite  subject 
for  the  next  few  days.  But  the 
openness,  amiability,  and  hospitality  of 
Lesuans  came  to  the  fore.  No 
arguments  or  recriminations.  (Why 
didn't  you  write?  What  were  you 
doing?)  They  knew  it  was  rather  a 
long  time  since  1  had  been  there,  but 
here  I  was  again  and  they  seemed 
pleased  at  the  idea. 

Other  people  began  to  appear,  and  I 
began  to  recognize  old  friends, 
especially  younger  men  and  women 
who  looked  in  1970  not  unlike  the  way 
they  did  in  1954.  People  who  had 
been  infants  or  young  children  were 

much  more  difficult  to  recognize,  as 
were  persons  who  had  been  of 
middle  age  in  1954. 

My  perceptions  were  rapidly  shifting. 
The  anticipated  difficulties  in 
recognizing  the  village  and  the  people, 
in  arriving  too  suddenly  and 
unexpectedly,  were  fading  in  the  warm 
glow  of  friendship  and  hospitality.  I 
found  that  I  had  been  reacting  to 
superficialities  in  the  village,  the 
houses,  and  the  people.  The  village 
plan  had  changed  somewhat,  but  was 
beginning  to  look  familiar  again.  I 
found  later  that  the  shifting  was  simply 
the  result  of  continuous  replacement 
of  the  ever-and-quickly  deteriorating 
houses.  Each  new  house  was  built 
next  to  the  existing  old  one,  which  was 
destroyed  when  the  new  one  was 
completed.   The  houses,  which  at  first 
glance  seemed  so  tiny  and  battered, 
began  to  assume  a  more  reasonable 
appearance.  They  didn't  seem  so 
small  as  I  got  closer  and  could 
measure  their  size  against  their 
occupants,  and  as  the  memories  of 
American  and  Australian  skyscrapers 
began  to  fade  from  my  mind.  Indeed, 
the  whole  village  was  large  and 
spacious,  and  house  sizes  and  land 
coverage  would  compare  favorably 
with  many  an  American  suburban 
town  plan.   In  the  days  and  weeks  to 
follow  I  could  not  account  for  my 
initial  view  that  Lesu  was  other  than 
the  neat,  clean,  and  beautiful  village 
which  it  was. 

Similarly,  my  initial  perception  of  the 
people  changed.  I  had  plunged 
directly  into  the  village,  unannounced 
and  unexpected,  in  late  afternoon, 
when  many  people  were  just  returning 
from  their  gardens  and  had  not  yet 
taken  their  daily  dip  in  the  sea.  Many 
were  wearing  their  working  clothes,  not 
their  better  clothing.  Also,  before  I 
recognized  many  people,  I  had  been 
scrutinizing  their  exterior  appearance 
in  a  way  one  does  not  see  a  friend  or 
acquaintance.   One  does  not  look  at 
debris  or  leaves  or  dirt  in  the  hair  or 
on  the  clothing  or  faces  of  people  one 


knows.  One  looks  instead  at  the 
expression  of  tine  face,  listens  to  what 
they  are  saying,  or  notices  their 
gestures.  And  so  indeed  did  it  go.   As 
we  became  reacquainted,  as  we  began 
to  recall  old  times  and  to  talk  about 
those  not  present,  my  family  in 
Chicago,  Lesuans  away  at  school  or 
working  or  who  had  died  since  1954, 
we  found  ourselves  responding  to 
each  other  as  people  with  shared 
experience.  Lesu  and  its  people  were 
beginning  to  conform  to  the  basic 
image  I  had  taken  away  with  me  in 
1954,  and  which  I  had  maintained  over 
the  years — a  lovely  place,  with 
friendly,  warm  people. 

I  asked  where  I  could  stay,  at  least 
for  the  night.  I  was  told  I  could  use  a 
room  of  the  Women's  Clubhouse  as  a 
bedroom,  and  I  saw  that  the  veranda 
could  be  used  as  an  office  where  I 
could  interview  people.  The  room  at 
the  other  end  was  in  use  as  a  store, 
but  beyond  it,  on  a  lower  level,  was  a 
room  which  could  be  used  as  a 
kitchen.  I  was  shown  the  latrine, 
located  on  the  bush  side  of  the  road. 
The  main  thing  that  remained  to  be 
done  for  that  evening  was  to  unload 
my  gear  and  supplies  from  the  car. 

Many  people  pitched  in,  and  in  a 
short  time  the  veranda  of  the  Women's 
Clubhouse  had  all  my  gear  and 
supplies  on  it.  I  got  out  my  cot  and 
bedding  and  set  them  up  in  the 
bedroom.  The  kerosene  lamps  were 
filled  to  light  the  fast-approaching 
dusk,  and  the  pressure  lamp  was 
unpacked  from  its  carton  and 
prepared  also.  What  would  in  later 
days  be  accomplished  by  me  in  a 
routine  way — filling  lamps  and  stove, 
checking  the  various  parts  and 
controls  of  the  pressure  lamp,  keeping 
house  without  benefit  of  running  water, 
electricity,  or  gas — that  first  evening  all 
had  to  be  done  at  once.  I  felt  then 
what  1  remembered  from  1954,  the 
pleasant  feeling  of  being  helped,  freely 
and  generously,  by  Lesuans.  The 
lamps  were  lighted,  some  of  the  gear 
and  supplies  stowed  away.  We  turned 

on  the  battery-powered  radio  and 
tuned  to  Radio  Rabaul,  which 
furnished  a  background  of  string-band 
music.  Among  the  groceries  I  had 
brought  with  me  from  Kavieng  was  a 
case  of  beer,  which  I  had  naively 
thought  to  consume  slowly  during  the 
following  weeks.  But  the  occasion 
seemed  to  demand  otherwise,  so  I 
opened  it  up  and  it  was  all  gone  in  a 
few  minutes.  In  1953  alcohol  had  been 
forbidden  to  the  native  population,  but 
that  was  definitely  not  so  in  1970.  So 
we  all  sat  around  and  talked  through 
the  evening,  recalling  Lesu  of  sixteen 
years  ago.  A  steady  stream  of  people 
kept  coming  up  to  say  hello — old 
friends,  and  some  people  I  had  never 
seen  before. 

We  agreed  that  I  would  pay  rent  to 
stay  in  the  Clubhouse,  that  a  shower 
room  would  be  built  at  one  corner  of 
the  house,  some  guttering  would  be 
run  along  the  edge  of  the  roof  to 
catch  rain  water,  and  a  55-gallon  drum 
set  under  it.  A  garage  (haus  kar) 
would  be  built  to  protect  the  car,  and 
the  latrine  would  be  refurbished.  All 
this  was  roughly  settled  in  the  evening, 
and  1  retired  to  spend  my  first  night  in 
Lesu.  I  didn't  sleep  well,  what  with  the 
excitement  of  arriving,  the  new 
surroundings,  and  thinking  ahead  to 
the  completion  of  settling  in  so  I 
could  get  to  work. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  since 
the  Sabbath  is  strictly  observed  in 
Lesu,  none  of  the  proposed  building 
projects  could  proceed  until  Monday. 
So  I  spent  the  day  unpacking  and 
stowing  supplies  and  talking  to  people. 
Cameras  and  film  were  put  into  tins 
with  silica  gel  to  protect  them  from  the 
very  humid  atmosphere. 

On  Monday  morning,  the  5th  of 
January,  all  the  available  manpower  of 
No.  1  Lesu  was  mobilized,  and  by 
mid-afternoon  the  car  was  under  a 
roof  and  the  rest  of  the  construction 
had  also  been  finished.  I  hung  my 
bucket  shower  in  the  shower  room  and 
began  to  consider  the  work  ahead. 

The  main  task  was  to  begin  showing 
photographs  to  informants  who,  I 
hoped,  could  tell  me  something  of  the 
objects  pictured.  Since  most  of  the 
objects  in  my  photos  were  collected  in 
German  times — that  is,  prior  to  1914 — 
that  meant  that  ideal  informants  would 
be  people  who  were  adults  at  that 
time,  who  could  have  seen  similar 
objects  (or  maybe  even  the  very 
objects  I  had  studied  in  the  museums), 
so  they  would  now  be  almost  eighty 
years  old.  Secondly,  younger 
informants,  people  in  their  thirties  to 
sixties,  could  know  something  too,  by 
hearsay  from  older  people  or  by 
having  seen  similar  but  later  objects 
made  and  used  in  ceremonies.  The 
people  to  look  for  would  very  likely  be 
men  rather  than  women,  since  the  men 
would  have  been  more  directly 
involved  with  the  ceremonials,  although 
women  would  not  be  completely  ruled 
out.  Women  tend  to  be  somewhat 
retiring  in  New  Ireland  society, 
especially  when  talking  to  strange 
Europeans.  The  kind  of  people  to  be 
considered  first  were  those  called  "big 
men,"  the  Melanesian  Pidgin  English 
term  for  traditional  leaders  in  New 
Ireland  and  other  Melanesian  societies. 

Chieftainship  is  not  much  developed  in 
Melanesian  societies,  and  in  New 
Ireland  very  little.  Instead,  certain  men 
emerge  as  leaders,  to  direct  work 
projects,  to  organize  ceremonials,  and 
in  former  days,  in  war.  Accession  to 
such  leadership  positions  was  informal 
and  based  on  ability  and  force  of 
personality,  qualities  obviously  not 
easily  transmitted  by  inheritance.  Thus 
every  village  had  one  or  more  "big 
men."  Sometimes  they  were  the  oldest 
men  in  a  clan;  at  least,  the  oldest  in  a 
clan  would  be  thought  of  as  the  most 
likely  candidates.  But  if  for  reasons  of 
personality  and  ability  such  a  man  was 
unable  to  muster  a  following  and 
actually  organize  and  lead  the  various 
necessary  enterprises,  he  would  not 
long  be  thought  of  as  really  a  "big 
man,"  and  someone  else  more  able 
would  come  to  the  fore.  Thus,  seeking 
out  informants  knowledgeable  about    ■- 


new  Ireland 

malanggan — the  major  memorial 
ceremonial  of  northern  New  Ireland, 
and  the  main  social  context  for  much 
of  the  art — meant  seeking  out  "big 
men,"  the  organizers  and  patrons  of 
such  ceremonials.  Everyone,  even 
children,  knew  who  was  a  "big  man," 
not  only  in  Lesu  and  nearby  villages, 
but  in  far-distant  ones  also. 

I  was  thus  able  to  set  out  for  visits  to 
other  villages  armed  with  lists  of 
names  of  such  men.  But  then  it  was 
often  hard  to  keep  them  aimed  at  my 
photos  and  problems  and  to  get 
information  about  malanggan 
ceremonials  and  its  art.  These  "big 
men"  varied  in  their  knowledge  of  the 
past,  and  in  their  attitude  toward 
being  interviewed  by  a  stranger.  Some 
were  outgoing  and  eager  to  share 
their  knowledge,  others  were 
suspicious  and  closemouthed.  Some 
simply  couldn't  understand  exactly 
what  I  wanted  of  them  and  continued 
through  interviews  focused  on  ideas 
and  knowledge  other  than  what  I  was 
interested  in.  But  the  main  problem 
was  that  no  one  man  in  any  locality 
really  knew  very  much  about 
malanggan  in  general.  Some  tended 
to  be  concerned  with  the  affairs  of 
their  own  small  areas.  Others,  not 
having  had  much  recent  experience 
with  malanggan  ceremonials,  had 
simply  forgotten  much  and  were 
unable  to  give  the  kind  of  detailed 
information  I  was  seeking. 

"Big  men"  were  often  deferred  to.  I 
might  ask  to  speak  to  an  individual 
whose  name  I  had,  and  that  person 
would  think  that  there  was  another, 
"bigger"  man,  or  more  knowledgeable 
one,  but  who  was  unfortunately  not 
around  that  day.  The  man  I  was 
talking  to  would  then  decline  to  say 
much,  in  deference  to  the  absent 

Different  attitudes  toward  Europeans 
came  into  play  also.  Most  relationships 
with  Europeans  are  not  close,  are 
frequently  suspicious,  and  sometimes 
even  hostile.  It  was  a  rare  and  very 

confident  New  Irelander  who  could 
immediately  enter  into  an  intimate, 
knowledge-sharing  relationship  with  a 
strange  European  just  because  he 
dropped  in  off  the  road  and  wanted  to 
know  about  malanggan.  It  was 
possible  to  get  onto  such  a  footing 
with  some  individuals,  but  not  quickly 
or  easily.  At  best,  my  drop-in  visits 
would  produce  over-formal  but 
informative  interviews.  At  worst,  I  was 
greeted  with  suspicion,  which  was 
manifested  by  minimum  information 
being  divulged. 

Carvers  were  potentially  a  good  source 
of  information,  and,  indeed,  one  of  the 
best  interviews  was  with  a  carver.  But 
so  few  carvers  were  around  in  1970 
that  I  didn't  learn  much  from  them. 
The  few  I  met  were  usually  more 
interested  in  the  photos  than  was 
anyone  else.  They  seemed  better  able 
to  appreciate  what  they  were  looking 
at — remarkable  examples  of  art  from 
the  past — for  they  were  the  men  who 
had  actually  tried  their  hand  at  making 
the  carvings,  even  though  in  recent 
years  the  resultant  works  were  not 
qualitatively  the  equal  of  earlier  work. 
In  contrast,  the  patrons,  although  they 
were  more  important  socially  in  the 
organization  and  implementation  of  the 
malanggan  ceremonies,  and  although 
they  too  were  knowledgeable  about 
names  and  designs  of  malanggans, 
were  not  involved  with  the  art  objects 
at  the  level  of  form,  style,  technique, 
and  execution  of  the  objects  as  art.  A 
patron  would  leaf  through  the 
photographs  looking  for  "his" 
malanggans,  while  a  carver  seemed  to 
be  more  aware  of  and  interested  in 
the  craftsmanship  of  the  pieces. 

The  main  part  of  my  research  plans 
yielded  less  satisfying  results  than  I 
had  hoped  for.  The  quality  of 
informants  often  turned  out  to  be 
different  from  what  I  had  expected, 
and  I  found  that  structuring  the 
interviews  around  the  photographs  was 
both  good  and  bad.  It  was  good  when 
the  informant  recognized  the  objects 
and  knew  something  specific  about 

them.  It  was  bad  if  an  informant  felt 
he  had  to  say  something  when  faced 
with  a  photograph,  whether  accurate  or 
not.  iVIost  informants  had  an  uncritical 
view  of  the  quality  of  the  pieces  they 
saw  in  the  photographs.  They  had 
seen  these  art  objects  only  in 
context — that  is,  made  to  order  for 
each  occasion,  and  then  destroyed. 
They  had  not  seen  many  objects  at 
one  time,  never  any  series  of  objects, 
and  so  had  no  basis  for  making 
esthetic  comparisons.  They  had  never 
seen  a  series  through  time  or  a  series 
from  different  areas.  Not  only  did  the 
photo  interviews  rarely  elicit  judgments 
of  esthetic  or  artistic  value,  I  felt  lucky 
if  there  was  mere  recognition  of 
motifs.  It  was  all  rather  sad,  that  the 
present-day  descendents  of  the  people 
who  had  commissioned,  made,  and 
used  the  marvelous  art  of  New  Ireland 
should  know  so  little  about  it. 

Opportunity  for  another  kind  of  work, 
which  I  had  little  hope  of  pursuing, 
loomed  far  beyond  my  expectations, 
however.  This  was  the  chance  to 
observe  on-going  memorial 
ceremonials  for  the  dead,  which  are 
the  modern  successor  to  the 
traditional  malanggan  ceremonials.  In 
1954,  when  a  person  died,  he  got  a 
Christian  burial,  and  a  few  days  later  a 
concrete  slab  was  poured  over  the 
grave  as  a  marker.  Then  about  a  year 
later  a  malanggan  ceremonial  would 
be  staged  which  would  feature  a 
carved  malanggan  object.  In  1970,  I 
found  that  after  the  burial  the  grave 
marker  was  not  immediately 
constructed;  rather,  it  was  delayed  so 
that  its  construction  and  erection  took 
place  at  the  same  time  as  the 
malanggans  of  the  past,  about  a  year 
later.  Also,  the  1970  grave  markers 
were  constructed  in  a  series  of  group 
work  projects,  each  one  celebrated  by 
feasts  and  distributions  of  food,  just  as 
malanggans  used  to  be.  In  fact,  the 
scope  of  the  ceremonies  had  grown, 
so  that  much  larger  amounts  of 
money,  foodstuffs,  labor,  and  cement 
were  going  into  the  new  grave-marker 
system  than  had  gone  Into  the 


Christian-burial-ma/anggan  system.  In 
1954  the  largest  malanggan 
celebration  I  had  seen  featured  the 
killing  and  distribution  of  twenty-two 
pigs;  in  1970  two  different  celebrations 
I  saw  had  seventy  pigs  each. 

I  attended  all  funerals  and  associated 
and  related  nnemorial  ceremonials  I 
could  get  to.  Sometimes  I  went  as  a 
stranger,  along  with  other  strangers 
who  came  to  see  the  large-scale 
festivities  and  dance  presentations,  but 
mostly  I  followed  the  lead  of  Lesu 
people  as  they  frequently  were  drawn 
into  participation  in  such  affairs  by 
their  social  and  kinship  relationships. 
It  was  best  to  go  with  Lesuans, 
because  I  could  then  better  observe 
and  understand  the  system  of 
contributions  of  food  and  money  and 
involvement  as  it  all  came  alive  in 
terms  of  real  people  whose  social  and 
kinship  relationships  I  knew.  For 
Lesuans,  there  was  the  advantage  that 
if  I  went  along  my  car  furnished 
transportation,  especially  for  the 
women,  who  often  had  to  carry  their 
baskets  of  contributions  to  the  feasts 
and  distributions  for  distances  of  up  to 
ten  miles;  and  then  had  to  bring  back 
heavy  loads  of  distributed  foodstuffs. 
With  the  increased  ownership  and  use 
of  trucks  in  1970,  often  villagers  hired 
trucks  to  do  that,  especially  for  longer 
distances,  but  a  free  ride  was  always 

I  had  many  opportunities  to  observe 
this  kind  of  funeral-memorial  complex 
in  1970,  the  surviving  social  context  of 
malanggan,  which,  instead  of  declining, 
was  still  very  much  alive  and 
apparently  expanding. 

A  third  kind  of  study  I  found  myself 
drawn  into  was  of  social  change  in 
Lesu  itself. 

One  great  change  was  population 
growth.  Population  decline  in  the 
Pacific  has  been  a  long-term  concern 
for  many  years,  to  the  point  that  in  the 
1920s  and  30s  there  was  worry  that  it 
was  irreversible  and  that  populations 

were  decreasing  to  dangerously  low 
levels.  Not  so  in  1970.  Pacific  area 
populations  are  now  on  the  rise. 

In  Lesu  the  population  is  now  about 
67  percent  greater  than  it  was  in  1954. 
The  increase  between  1929  and  1954 
was  only  about  5  percent.  However,  a 
dysentery  epidemic  in  1948  made  the 
population  lower  than  it  would  otherwise 
have  been.  In  1954  it  was  rare  for  a 
family  to  have  more  than  two  or  three 
children,  and  there  seemed  to  be  many 
childless  couples  who  said  that  they 
wanted  children  but  didn't  have  any. 
In  1970  there  were  families  with  four, 
five,  even  seven  or  eight  children,  all 
alive  and  well,  and  beginning  to  make 
their  presence  felt  in  society. 

The  population  increase  must  be  partly 
explained  by  better  health  resulting 
from  better  nutrition  and  medical 
services.  In  1970  general  health 
seemed  better  and  the  younger  people 
seemed  larger  and  heavier.  A  number 
of  years  of  malaria  control  and 
mosquito  eradication  were  apparent,  for 
far  fewer  people  seemed  to  be 
suffering  from  malaria.  Increased  and 
more  efficient  motor  transport  (better 
roads,  more  cars  and  trucks,  and  a 
daily  bus  service)  made  the  hospital  in 
Kavieng  and  the  several  other  medical 
facilities  on  the  island  much  more 
available  than  formerly  for  treatment  of 
illnesses  and  accidents. 

Another  change  was  that  the  people 
of  Lesu  were  wealthier  in  1970  because 
of  increased  cash  crop  production. 
More  copra  was  being  produced  and 
sold,  cocoa  was  coming  into 
production,  sale  of  timber  was 
beginning,  and  there  was  greater 
involvement  in  wage  and  salaried 
employment  of  various  kinds.  More 
European  foodstuffs  are  used,  such  as 
tinned  fish  and  meat,  rice,  sugar,  tea, 
and  coffee.  Consumption  of  tobacco  in 
the  form  of  cigarettes,  trade  (stick) 
tobacco,  native  grown  tobacco,  and 
newspaper  (for  rolling  "cigars")  has 
increased.  More  European  style 
clothing  was  worn,  such  as  shorts, 

shirts,  tee  shirts,  rubber  sandals,  hats. 
A  number  of  battery-operated  transistor 
radios  were  owned  and  used,  also 
more  kerosene  (wick)  lamps  and  some 
pressure  lamps  were  in  daily  use.  A 
number  of  people  owned  bicycles. 
Three  trucks  were  owned  in  Lesu  in 
1970,  and  a  fourth  was  paid  for  and 
on  order  at  the  time  I  left.  Considerable 
amounts  of  money  circulated  in  the 
memorial  ceremonial  system  and  in 
bride-price  payments,  and  undoubtedly 
money  was  being  saved.  The  local 
government  council  has  built  two  large 
school  buildings  of  brick.  A  private 
entrepreneur  has  built  a  number  of 
brick  houses  and  a  brick  church  in 
No.  2  Lesu.  The  United  Church 
congregation  in  No.  1  Lesu  wants  to 
construct  a  brick  church  building,  and 
some  individuals  would  like  to  build 
brick  houses  for  themselves. 

There  was  much  more  interest  and 
participation  in  education  in  1970  than 
in  1954.  The  Territory  government  has 
spent  more  money  on  education, 
teacher  training,  and  construction.  One 
consequence  of  the  increased  level  of 
education  is  that  many  Lesuans  can 
speak  and  read  English  and  are  more 
aware  of  the  rest  of  the  world.  The 
increase  in  radio  broadcasting  has  also 
helped  to  broaden  the  horizon  for 
Lesuans.  On  their  radios  they  hear 
local  and  world  news  among  other 
offerings,  in  Pidgin  English,  English, 
and  sometimes  in  their  own  languages. 

Political  activity  has  increased  too,  in 
Lesu  as  well  as  the  rest  of  New  Ireland. 
The  government-appointed  native 
officials  of  1954  have  given  way  to 
elected  officials  with  considerable 
power  over  the  conduct  of  local  affairs. 
In  1970  there  was  much  discussion  of 
rapidly  approaching  self-government 
and  ultimate  independence. 

New  Irelanders  thus  find  themselves 
drawn  increasingly  into  the  modern 
wider  world.  In  1954,  although  they 
had  already  considerably  changed 
from  a  pre-contact  condition,  they 
lived  close  to  subsistence  level  and 


new  Ireland 

knew  very  little  of  the  outside  world.  By 
1970  there  had  been  a  considerable 
and  qualitative  leap  into  the  world 
community.  For  purposes  of  my  study 
this  meant  that  they  were  much  further 
away  from  the  part  of  their  past  I  was 
interested  in — their  art  and  ceremonial 
life — but,  paradoxically,  a  flourishing 
ceremonial  life  continued. 

These  changes  seem  one-way  and 
irreversible.  There  remain  possibilities 
of  various  syntheses  between  the 
indigenous  culture  and  that  of  the 
wider  world,  so  that  as  New  Irelanders 
push  into  this  world,  they  may  yet 
retain  elements  of  their  traditional 
culture  too. 

Thus  my  work  continued  through  1970, 
seeking  out  and  interviewing  informants 
about  the  old  art,  attending  the 
ceremonies  still  carried  on,  and 
observing  the  changes  in  Lesu  society 
during  the  recent  past.  I  was  living  in 
the  present-day  Lesu,  but  my  inquiries 
were  aimed  at  a  period  from  the  past, 
going  back  from  1970,  through  1954, 
1930  (when  Powdermaker  had  been 
there),  and  to  the  German  colonial 
period,  back  to  before  the  turn  of  the 

Finally,  the  last  weeks  of  November 
arrived  and  I  began  to  prepare  for  the 
return  journey — to  disengage  myself 
from  Lesu  in  order  to  go  home  again. 

If  my  arrival  at  Lesu  had  been  abrupt 
and  without  warning  to  the  people  of 
Lesu,  my  departure  was  anything  but 
that.  Everyone  knew  that  I  was  going 
to  leave  December  7th.  Weeks  ahead 
of  time  planning  started  for  farewell 
parties,  and  various  suggested  affairs 
shook  down  to  two:  a  large  general 
feast  and  program,  and  a  smaller, 
private  party  scheduled  by  Karake,  to 
symbolize  our  friendship.  In  earlier 
times  there  were  no  going-away 
parties,  because  no  one  went 
anywhere.  Now  more  and  more  New 
Irelanders  go  away  from  home  to  work 
or  attend  school.  To  mark  such 
occasions,  farewell  parties  are  given. 

consisting  of  feasting,  oratory,  and 

The  main  party  began  on  the  evening 
of  November  27th,  a  Friday,  at  about 
8  p.m.,  with  a  string  band  from 
Lamussong,  a  village  about  eight  miles 
south  of  Lesu.  String  bands  are  a  very 
recent  phenomenon  in  the  Territory  of 
Papua  and  New  Guinea,  and  seem  to 
have  sprung  up  in  the  wake  of 
spreading  radio  broadcasting  in  the 
area.  A  string  band  consists  of  men 
playing  guitars  and  ukeleles — both 
purchased  ready-made  and  homemade 
of  bush  materials — plus  various  other 
homemade  instruments.  No  traditional 
instruments  are  used  in  these  bands. 
Formal  dance  presentations  and 
informal  participation  in  the  dancing 
are  part  of  the  string  band  complex. 
The  music  is  simple  but  engaging,  and 
the  songs  are  in  Pidgin  English  and 
local  languages  and  tell  stories  of 
love,  friendship,  and  everyday 
happenings.  The  dancing  looks  like  a 
joyous  blend  of  the  Twist  and  the 
Hula.  The  Lamussong  band  played 
constantly  for  thirteen  hours,  joined 
for  a  while  at  night  by  two  other 
bands.  Tu-lait  (dawn)  saw  many 
onlookers  departing  but  the  band 
played  till  9  a.m.  After  one  hour's  rest 
the  main  program  began.  Feasting, 
speeches  by  friends  in  Lesu,  traditional 
dancing,  and  food  distribution  are 
characteristics  of  Lesu  celebrations 
and  marked  this  party  as  well. 

On  the  3rd  of  December  I  had  another 
busy  day,  delivering  the  last  two  crates 
to  the  shipper  in  Kavieng,  turning  over 
the  car  to  its  purchaser,  closing  my 
bank  account,  picking  up  my  return 
air  ticket,  and  returning  to  Lesu  on  a 
truck  owned  by  a  Lesu  man,  Patrick 
De.  My  friends  had  urged  me  to  stay 
in  Lesu  until  after  midnight  of  the  6th 
and  let  them  accompany  me  to  the 
airport  by  means  of  Patrick's  truck.  I 
agreed  to  do  that  because  it  seemed 
appropriate  to  leave  New  Ireland 
directly  from  Lesu. 

Karake's  party  was  December  4th  at 

his  house.  It  started  with  presentation 
of  gifts,  many  for  my  family  in 
Chicago,  especially  the  children,  each 
gift  being  offered  while  shaking  hands 
goodbye.  We  then  had  a  feast  and 
spent  the  rest  of  the  night  singing 
songs,  which  I  recorded  on  the  tape 
recorder.  Tu-lait  was  more  easily 
reached  this  time,  it  seemed,  after  the 
practice  at  the  big  party  previously.  I 
slept  a  few  hours  on  Saturday  morning, 
and  during  the  day  took  photos  of 
people  I  had  missed  in  earlier 
photography.  On  Saturday  evening  I 
talked  to  friends,  with  the  sad  feeling 
that  this  was  the  next  to  last  evening  I 
would  see  them  for  a  long  time.  Finally 
I  retired  to  spend  what  turned  out  to 
be  my  last  night  of  sleep  in  New 
Ireland,  for  Sunday  night  proved  to  be 
far  too  busy  for  sleep. 

Sunday,  December  6th,  was  obviously 
the  last  day  for  packing,  or  for 
anything  else.  A  recurring  question 
was,  "Do  you  think  you'll  come  back 
another  time?"  I  thought  over  the 
elements  of  an  honest  answer  to  that 
question,  such  as  research  possibilities, 
financing,  and  the  like,  and  fell  back 
on  the  lame  position  that  I  hadn't 
known  I  would  come  back  when  I  left 
in  1954,  and  I  did  come  back,  so 
maybe  I  would  be  able  to  come  again 
in  the  future.  It  was  suggested  not 
altogether  jokingly  that  my  son  David 
(now  13)  could  come  back  and  live 
with  them  as  a  second  generation 
anthropologist  and  study  their 
succeeding  generations.  But  none  of 
this  talk  really  convinced  any  of  us 
that  I  thought  I  would  be  able  to 
return  soon. 

The  problem  of  disposing  of  my 
household  gear  hadn't  really  been 
tackled  yet,  and  as  the  afternoon  wore 
on,  I  began  to  dismantle  my  living 
arrangements  so  I  could  give  away  the 
various  items.  Through  the  evening, 
many  people  came  and  stayed  with 
me  and  helped  in  the  packing.  It  was 
not  unlike  the  vigil  carried  out 
traditionally  for  a  person  thought  likely 
to  die.  About  midnight  a  group  of  men 



came  from  Tandes,  to  shake  hands 
and  sing  a  few  songs.  They  left  and  I 
distributed  my  gear,  and  finally  I  was 
left  with  only  my  luggage,  and  began 
to  await  the  arrival  of  the  truck  to  take 
us  to  Kavieng. 

The  truck  was  to  be  driven  over  from 
No.  2  Lesu  at  about  3:30  a.m.  so  that 
the  drive  to  Kavieng  would  get  us  to 
the  airport  before  6  a.m.  We  began  to 
await  the  arrival  of  the  truck,  for  at 
that  time  I  would  have  to  say  a  final 
goodbye  to  the  majority  of  the  Lesuans, 
since  only  a  few  would  come  with  me 
to  the  airport. 

But  my  sadness  at  leaving  soon  began 
to  be  replaced  by  anxiety  about  the 
arrival  of  the  truck  and  the  beginning 
of  my  fear  that  I  would  miss  the  plane! 
3:30  came,  but  no  truck.  At  3:45  I 
began  to  fear  that  I  would  miss  the 
plane.  4  o'clock  came  and  still  no 
truck,  but  finally  at  4:20,  headlights 
appeared  and  soon  the  truck  pulled 
up  before  the  house. 

We  shifted  my  luggage  down  the  stairs 
and  into  the  truck.  People  crowded 
around  to  shake  hands.  Tears  were  in 
many  eyes,  and  those  who  were  to 
come  with  me  climbed  in  the  truck. 
Sau,  one  of  my  best  informants  and  a 
close  friend,  was  crying  openly.  Last 
goodbyes  were  shouted  and  the  truck 
pulled  out  at  about  4:30  a.m. 

I  rode  in  the  cab  of  the  truck,  grateful 
for  the  chance  to  be  relatively  alone. 
Fortunately  Talawe,  in  the  cab  with  me, 
chose  not  to  say  much  either.  We 
concentrated  on  smoking  cigarettes 
and  watching  the  night-time  East  Coast 
Road  unreel  before  us  in  the  glare  of 
the  headlights.  At  about  5:30  we 
passed  a  village  I  knew  to  be  half 
way  to  Kavieng,  and  thus  knew  that 
we  had  a  chance  of  making  the  airport 
on  time. 

At  about  6:05  with  the  sunrise  cheerily 
spreading,  at  a  point  about  fifteen 
miles  from  the  airport,  we  stopped  for 
a  few  minutes  to  wash  up  and  toilet 

some  of  the  children  at  a  nearby 
beach.  Before  that  the  people  had 
been  huddled  in  the  open  rear  of  the 
truck,  with  their  flimsy  shirts  buttoned 
up  against  the  wind  and  they  had 
looked  cold  and  bleak.  But  now  with 
the  tropical  sun  rising  rapidly  and  the 
familiar  warmth  again  beginning  to  be 
felt,  everyone  seemed  in  better  spirits. 
The  children  scampered  back  to  the 
truck.  We  all  climbed  back  in  and 
went  on,  to  turn  in  at  the  airport  at 
about  6:40  a.m. 

We  pulled  up  to  the  terminal,  I 
checked  my  bags  and  I  turned  to  my 
friends.  We  said  our  last  goodbyes  and 
I  walked  onto  the  plane. 

As  the  plane  took  off,  and  headed 
south  toward  Rabaul,  I  tried  not  to 
think  of  them  there  waving  and 
watching  the  plane  vanish.  I  wondered 
if  I  would  ever  see  them  again.  Lesu 
was  so  far  from  Chicago,  in  miles  and 
in  difference  in  culture.  But  their  lives 
would  go  on  and  so  would  mine.  We 
would  think  of  each  other  often,  but 
communication  would  be  slow  and 

And  what  of  my  work,  what  had  I 
learned  in  a  year?  That  eliciting  the 
past,  even  the  relatively  recent  last 
seven  or  eight  decades,  is  not  readily 
done,  that  there  is  much  that  I  don't 
know  of  New  Ireland  art  and 
ceremonial.  I  considered  the  work 
ahead,  the  task  of  shaking  down, 
abstracting  something  significant  from 
the  minutiae  in  my  notes.  The  still 
functioning  memorial  ceremonials,  the 
new-style  cement  grave  markers,  could 
be  considered  to  be  part  of  the  system 
of  art  and  ceremonial.  Also  my  corpus 
of  photos  of  museum  specimens 
provided  evidence  that  there  really  had 
been  a  rich  and  fantastic  world  of  art 
in  New  Ireland  and  that  it  had  flourished 
as  recently  as  forty  years  ago. 

Their  new  interests  and  activities  such 
as  politics  and  cash  cropping  were 
signs  of  New  Irelanders  "emerging" 
into  "our"  world  and  away  from  their 

traditional  culture.  My  feelings  were 
mixed  about  that;  I  hated  to  see  the 
riches  of  the  traditional  past 
abandoned,  but  on  the  other  hand  the 
people  of  New  Ireland  liked  many 
aspects  of  their  new  life,  and  I  shared 
their  pleasure. 

The  plane  angled  away  from  New 
Ireland,  and  the  island  shrank  in  size 
so  that  what  I  remembered  of  the 
luxuriant  vegetation,  dotted  with 
peaceful  villages  of  calm  and  pleasant 
people  faded  away  in  the  distance  into 
misty  blue  shapes.  The  petty  routines 
of  air  travel  began  to  assert 
themselves.  I  thought  ahead  to  the 
transits  through  the  various  increasingly 
large  and  complex  and  bustling  air 
terminals,   Rabaul,   Lae,   Port  Moresby, 
Brisbane,  Sydney,  then  Honolulu, 
Los  Angeles,  and  finally  Chicago.  In 
9  hours  I  landed  in  Sydney,  and  in 
about  17  hours  more  at  O'Hare 
Field  in  Chicago.   I  thought  of  the 
problems  of  lag  of  one's  biological 
rhythms  after  being  hurled  thousands 
of  miles  from  the  other  side  of  the 
world,  but  knew  that  such  adjustment 
was  going  to  be  much,  much  easier 
and  quicker  than  learning  to  adjust  to 
living  away  from  Lesu. 


Phillip  H.  Lewis.  "The  Social  Context  of 
Art  in  Northern  New  Ireland,"  Fieldiana: 
Anthropology,  vol.  58,  May  29,  1969. 

Hortense  Powdermaker.  Lite  in  Lesu. 
York:  W.  W.  Norton  &  Co.  Inc.,  1933; 
paperback  N566,  1971. 


Dr.  Phillip  H.  Lewis  is  curator  of  primitive  art 
and  Melanesian  ethnology,  Field  Museum. 


^AAhy  was 

^A^illiam  Jones  killed? 

Barbara  Stoner 

William  Jones  was  born  March  28, 
1871,  on  the  Sauk  and  Fox  Reservation 
in  Oklahoma.  His  mother  was  an 
English  girl,  Sarah  Penny;  his  father, 
Henry  Clay  Jones,  was  the  son  of  a 
Fox  Indian  mother  and  an  English 
father  who  had  gone  west  with  Daniel 
Boone  and  fought  in  the  Black  Hawk 
War.  William  Jones  died  in  April  of 
1909,  killed  by  the  llongots  of  Luzon 
in  the  Philippines,  while  on  an 
anthropological  expedition  for  Field 

Sarah  Penny  Jones  died  when  her  son 
was  one  year  old.  Henry  Milner 
Rideout,  in  his  biography  William  Jones 
(1912)  quotes  him: 

"My  dear  old  grandmottier  used  to  tell  me 
that  I  was  born  in  the  springtime,  when  the 
bluebirds  were  coming  from  the  south  and 
were  looking  about  in  the  dead  trees  for 
holes  to  build  their  nests  in.  Grass  was  just 
coming  up,  and  with  it  the  flowers.  She  used 
to  tell  me  how  she  would  carry  me  about, 
and  a  whole  lot  more  things  which  I 
sometimes  live  over,  though  more  often  they 
seem  but  a  tale.  Then  the  summer  went  by, 
and  the  winter  followed,  and  the  next  spring 
they  laid  my  mother  to  rest.  This  is  the  way 
she  recorded  time,  and  that  is  the  way  it 
has  always  come  to  me." 

Jones  lived  with  his  grandmother, 
Katiqua,  a  "medicine  woman"  of  the 
Fox  tribe,  until  her  death  when  he  was 
nine,  and  it  was  from  her  that  he  first 
heard  the  legends  he  was  later  to 
collect.  He  then  lived  first  with  his 
father's  new  family  and  later  with  his 
mother's  people  until  his  father  sent 
him  to  an  Indian  boarding  school  in 
Wabash,  Indiana,  maintained  by  the 
Society  of  Friends,  for  three  years. 
There  followed  three  more  years  as  a 
cowboy  on  the  Great  Plains,  a  period 
which  ended  with  the  spring  round-up 
of  1889  when  Jones  was  18.  After 
schooling  at  Hampton  Institute  in 
Hampton,  Virginia,   he  went  on  to 
the  Phillips  Andover  Academy  in 
Andover,  Massachusetts  in  1892. 

Jones  began  his  career  at  Andover 
with  an  Idea  that  he  might  study 
medicine  and  go  back  to  his  people 
as  a  healer.  The  idea  remained  just 
that.  He  graduated  from  Phillips 

Andover  in  the  spring  of  1896  and 
spent  that  summer  with  his  father 
canvassing  the  tribes  of  the  Great 
Plains  for  students  to  send  to  the 
Indian  school  in  Carlisle,  Pennsylvania. 
In  the  autumn  of  1896  he  began  his 
studies  at  Harvard. 

One  of  his  first  mentors  at  Harvard 
was  F.  W.  Putnam,  Peabody  Professor 
of  American  Archaeology  and 
Ethnology,  and  under  Putnam's 
influence,  Jones'  thoughts  about  the 
future  turned  more  and  more  away 
from  medicine  and  toward  Indian 
ethnology.  Every  summer  was  spent  on 
the  western  plains,  collecting  stories 
and  observing  and  noting  down 
customs  and  festivals. 

Recommended  by  Putnam,  Jones 
entered  Columbia  in  the  fall  of  1900 
and  became  President's  University 
Scholar  in  his  first  year.  He  received  his 
A.M.  degree  in  June  of  1901.  In  July 
he  was  appointed  University  Fellow  in 
Anthropology  for  the  following  year 
under  Franz  Boas,  then  Professor  of 
Anthropology  at  Columbia,  as  well  as 
Curator  of  Anthropology  at  the 
American  Museum  of  Natural  History. 
During  the  summer  Jones  again  did 
field  work  among  the  Fox  and  Sac, 
and  on  returning  to  New  York 
announced  his  engagement  to 
Miss  Caroline  Andrus,  of  Hampton, 

The  summers  of  1902  and  1903  were 
spent  in  field  work  and  on  June  8, 
1904  he  received  his  Ph.D.  degree. 
Summer  of  1904  found  him  back  on 
the  Great  Plains,  but  the  following  year 
there  was  no  further  work  among  the 
Indians.  He  was  ready  now  for 
permanent  employment  in  his  chosen 
field  and  had  wanted  very  much  to  go 
to  Labrador  to  work  with  the  Naskapi 
Indians,  but  no  positions  in  this 
direction  were  open.  In  1906  Dr. 
George  A.  Dorsey  of  Field  Museum 
offered  him  his  choice  of  three 
expeditions:  to  Africa,  the  South  Seas, 
or  the  Philippines.  He  chose  the 
Philippines,  and  in  June  of  1906 
Dr.  William  Jones  came  to  Chicago. 

Rideout  quotes  Jones  on  the  city: 

"You  know,  ...  the  part  of  the  city  I  am 
in  is  like  an  inland  country  town  with  lots  of 
open  air  and  space;  and  so  I  never  go 
down  town  into  the  dust,  cinders,  rush  and 
noise,  only  when  I  have  to.  The  Museum, 
you  know,  is  on  the  Lake.  There  are  green 
plots,  with  trees  often.  For  example,  a 
maple  comes  up  to  my  window.  To  smoke  I 
must  go  out  of  doors,  which  in  one  way 
is  a  hardship,  but  in  another  is  quite  a 
recreation;  for  the  lawns  and  groves  and 
lagoons,  and  big  Lake  are  all  there." 

At  that  time  the  Museum  was  housed 
in  its  original  quarters  in  Jackson  Park, 
now  the  Museum  of  Science  and 

Jones  made  a  last  visit  to  the  Great 
Plains  in  the  summer  of  1907,  then 
said  goodbye  to  his  friends  and  Miss 
Caroline  Andrus,  and  sailed  from 
Seattle  in  August  on  the  Aki  Maru 
bound  for  Manila. 

His  route  from  Manila  lay,  according 
to  Rideout,  "round  the  north  end  of 
Luzon,  by  sea,  to  Aparri  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Cagayan  River,  in  Isabela 
Province;  thence  up  the  river, 
southward,  among  the  hills  and  the 
wild  hill-people."  Jones'  diaries  and 
letters,  now  in  the  archives  of  the 
Department  of  Anthropology  of  Field 
Museum,  tell  the  rest  of  the  story. 

Reaching  Echague  on  the  Cagayan 
River  in  November  of  1907,  Jones 
spent  the  rest  of  that  year  and  the 
early  months  of  1908  investigating  the 
area  around  Echague  and  making 
preparations  to  go  upstream  to  the 
country  of  the  llongots. 

The  llocanos  living  in  the  Echague 
region  were  at  first  less  than 
cooperative.  In  March  of  1908  a  head 
was  taken,  and  Jones  photographed 
the  headless  body,  which  was  in  a 
cave.  April  6  he  wrote  of  the  llocanos: 
"These  people  here  are  also  warning 
me  not  to  go  to  the  llongots,  saying 
that  we  are  going  to  certain  death." 
And  later:  "The  llocanos  here  are 
pretty  badly  scared;  they  fear  lest  the 
llongots  come  any  time  to  attack 



Right,  William  Jones,  photographed  in  Chicago, 
1907.  Left,  three  llongot  men  taken  into  custody 
for  the  murder  of  Dr.  Jones. 

The  llocanos  were  acculturated 
migrants  from  the  llocos  province  and 
were  no  longer  headhunters.  They 
depended  upon  the  constabulary  for 
protection  and  did  not  make  retaliatory 
raids  against  the  llongots.  On  April  9 
a  military  expedition  against  the 
llongots  was  undertaken  by  the 
constabulary  in  connection  with  the 
missing  head.  On  the  11th  the  soldiers 
returned,  having  set  fire  to  a  deserted 
village  and  seen  no  one. 

On  April  15,  1908  Jones  was  at  last 
on  his  way  upstream  to  the  country  of 
the  llongots.  The  next  day  he  reached 
Dumubatu,  and  here  he  first 
encountered  the  people  with  whom  he 
was  to  live  for  the  next  year.  "At 
present  everything  looks  extremely 
rosy.  The  people  have  fetched  me  rice, 
camote  [sweet  potatoes],  chickens, 
and  honey  in  bamboo  tubes.  I  am 
sharing  this  food  with  my  Christiano 
Yogads,  and  the  llongots  who  gave  it 
have  invited  themselves  to  help  eat  it." 
The  llongots  complained  somewhat 
about  soldiers  but  were  not  unpleasant 
about  it.  Here  he  first  observed  the 
way  the  llongots  made  a  formal 
contract — by  each  party  tying  knots  in 
a  string  called  "bitals."  The  making  of 
this  contract  or  promise  was  referred 
to  as  "making  bitals." 

Generally,  Jones  got  on  well  with  his 
hosts,  and  always  referred  to  them  as 
his  "friends."  Jones  ate  with  them, 
slept  with  them,  and  hunted  with  them. 

Do  you  know  the  wild  carabao,  sometimes 
called  ttie  wild  buffalo?  That  animal  offers 
the  best  sport  of  anything  out  here.  It  is  a 
fighter  all  the  time,  will  often  give  chase  like 
the  grizzly  on  general  principles.  It's  all  day 
with  a  man  if  he  wounds  one  and  the  animal 
is  between  him  and  a  tree  or  a  place  of 
refuge.  I  had  the  great  pleasure  of  killing  a 
whopper  one  day.  It  would  take  pages  to 
tell  of  the  thrilling  joy  an  llongot  and  I 
had  in  doing  it. 

His  diaries  are  full  of  descriptions  of 
the  appearance  and  behavior  of  many 
individuals,  and  it  is  clear  that  he  saw 
them  and  valued  them  as  individuals. 
Through  most  of  his  stay  with  the 
llongots  Jones  exhibited  kindness  and 
a  willingness,  if  not  always  the  ability, 
to  understand.  For  the  first  few  months 
his  diaries  relate  almost  daily  his 
observations  of  near-nudity  and  the 
open  performance  of  natural  functions, 
as  well  as  of  the  bantering  back  and 
forth  on  sexual  subjects.  He  did  not 
judge  this  behavior,  but  the  frequency 
with  which  it  is  mentioned  in  the 
diaries  suggests  that  he  obviously 
needed  to  adjust  to  it.  Only  when  the 
behavior  of  the  llongots  infringed  on 
his  ability  to  carry  out  his  work  and 
made  frustrating  demands  on  him  did 

his  discipline  break  down  and  cause 
him  to  make  mistakes. 

After  leaving  Dumubatu,  he  spent 
some  time  in  the  hamlet  of  Panipagan 
and  then  left  for  Kagadyangan.  Panakat, 
headman  of  Panipagan  and  his  former 
host,  was  much  put  out  and  begged 
and  bribed  Jones  to  stay.  Jones, 
however,  insisted  on  going  and  was 
made  welcome  in  Kagadyangan  in  the 
home  of  the  headman  there,  Takadan. 

Wherever  he  went,  the  llongots  soon 
became  jealous  over  every  little  gift 
Jones  made,  and  they  were  also 
jealous  of  his  attentions  to  the  sick. 
As  soon  as  one  person  was  given  an 
ointment  or  medicine,  a  dozen  others 
developed  the  same  symptoms.  On 
July  4  a  man  whose  arm  Jones  had 
treated  previously  died,  apparently  of 
heart  failure.  Jones  went  back  to 
Panipagan  to  examine  the  body  at 
Palidat's  house,  and  explained  that  the 
medication  had  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  man's  death.  The  explanation  that 
the  man  had  died  of  too  much  basi  (a 
local  wine)  seemed  to  be  accepted, 
and  on  the  advice  of  Romano  (Jones' 
manservant)  Jones  returned  to  the 
house  of  Takadan.  On  July  7  he  wrote: 
"I  find  that  I  had  made  a  big  mistake 
by  coming  away  from  Palidat's  when 



I  did.  "  The  mistake  is  not  clear,  but  it 
seems  to  have  had  something  to  do 
with  etiquette.  As  we  will  see,  a  man 
named  Palidat  is  mentioned  by  Rideout 
as  the  one  who  struck  the  first  blow 
when  Jones  was  later  attacked  and 
killed.  It  is  probable,  although 
unsubstantiated,  that  this  is  the  same 

The  year  was  wearing  on  and  Jones' 
patience  was  wearing  thin.  He  began 
to  make  more  mistakes,  lost  his 
temper  more  often,  and  tried  to  teach 
the  llongots  "lessons"  in  ethics.  On 
July  29  the  following  incident  took 
place  when  a  man  did  not  like  the 
comb  Jones  had  given  him  as  well  as 
one  given  another  man: 

...  I  told  the  people  what  I  thought  of 
Maglern,  that  instead  of  being  a  man  he  was 
yet  a  little  boy;  that  though  he  was  the  son 
of  Kapunwan — leading  man — yet  he  did  not 
know  how  to  act  like  one;  that  he  threw  the 
comb  at  the  teniente  (Palidat)  as  he  would 
a  stick  at  a  dog;  and  that  his  whole  behavior 
was  most  unbecoming  even  of  a  good  man, 
not  to  mention  that  of  a  Kapunwan.  The 
father,  uncle,  Gatma  and  others  at  once 
came  forward  offering  excuses,  saying  it 
was  only  a  joke,  just  for  fun.  I  refused  to 
take  it  as  such. 

On  August  25,  1908  Jones  wrote  to 
Dr.  Franz  Boas: 

I  am  writing  from  the  country  of  the  llongots 
at  a  place  In  the  mountains  of  Southern 
Isabella  ...  an  llongot  district  called 
Tamsi  . .  .  There  is  a  nominal  peace  among 
the  four  districts,  but  it  is  not  of  a  kind  to 
establish  much  confidence  .  .  .  The  llongot 
easily  gives  expression  to  his  emotions  .  .  . 
I  have  seen  little  that  would  make  me  think 
that  they  ever  steal.  But  they  lie  as  easily  as 
they  breathe  .  .  .  They  say  it  is  nothing, 
that  it  is  the  way  with  all  men  everywhere  . . . 

"Lying"  occurred  mostly  in  terms  of 
time.  The  llongots  had  a  poor  sense  of 
time  in  the  Western  sense.  Theirs  was 
a  day-to-day  existence,  and  the 
importance  of  meeting  on  the  river 
bank  with  banquillas  (dugout  canoes) 
by  such  an  hour  on  such  a  day  was  a 
concept  which  they  poorly  understood. 

Further  light  is  thrown  on  llongot  lies 
to  white  men  by  the  entry  for  Friday, 
October  2,  1908:  "Inamon  [headman 
of  Tamsi]  has  explained  to  me  why  he 

lied  to  Captain  Bowers.  First 
concerning  the  trips  to  Panipagan  and 
Kagadyangan.  Inamon  said  that  the 
Captain  was  anxious  to  go  there,  and 
when  Bowers  asked  him  if  it  would 
be  all  right  to  go  he  gave  him  the 
answer  he  wanted  to  hear;  that  the 
Captain  did  not  care  to  hear  anything 
else  ..." 

Jones  visited  other  llongot  settlements, 
although  he  did  not  become  as  well 
acquainted  with  the  inhabitants  of 
those  villages  as  he  did  at  Dumubatu, 
Panipagan,  Kagadyangan,  and  Tamsi. 
His  diaries  contain  many  pages  of 
ethnographic  descriptions  of  houses, 
tools,  procedures  and  living  habits.  He 
was  always  bothered  by  begging.  The 
people  were  very  jealous  over  his 
presents  to  them  and  tried  nearly  every 
trick  at  their  disposal  to  obtain  as 
much  as  they  could.  It  is  quite 
understandable  that  they  would.  It  must 
also  have  been  a  terribly  frustrating 
situation  for  Jones  to  deal  with. 

The  next  few  months  were  spent 
visiting  and  revisiting  the  llongot 
villages,  making  notes  and  gathering 
material  for  the  collection.  On  February 
25,  a  last  letter  to  a  friend  ends  on  a 
wistful  note:  "And  may  the  Lord  be 
merciful  to  your  sinful  soul,  and  bring 
you  safe  to  Manila,  where  we  can 
open  a  cool  bottle  and  another  in 
memory  of  other  days  and  of  friends 
5,000  miles  or  more  away." 

Rideout's  biography  states:  "Balsas — 
bamboo  rafts — were  needed  to  bring 
Dr.  Jones  and  his  ethnologic  freight 
down  river  to  the  friendly  huts  at 
Dumubatu  and  the  Christiano  town  of 
Echague.  Two  hamlets,  Panipagan  and 
Kagadyangan,  had  promised  and  failed 
to  bring  these  balsas,  had  promised 
again  and  failed  again  .  .  ."  Jones' 
patience  grew  even  shorter.  On  Friday, 
March  26,  1 909,  he  wrote  from 
Dumubatu  of  the  promised  balsas:  "If 
they  fail  to  show  up  then  on  the 
morning  after  I  will  go  up  to 
Kagadyangan,  and  if  I  go  I  will  make 
Kagadyangan  pay  for  it." 

Sunday,  March  28:  "Sibley  got  away 
this  noon.  Before  he  departed,  I  had 
him  and  the  llongots  make  a  bital  to 
meet  at  Inamatan  10  days  hence;  they 
are  to  leave  with  me  four  days  from 
now  for  Echague  .  .  ." 

Monday,  March  29:  "Nine  balsas  have 
come  and  the  men  have  lashed  them 
together  in  pairs.  The  number  is  hardly 
enough,  but  it  is  about  all  they  have. 
I  may  be  compelled  to  go  on  to 
Panipagan  after  all  to  get  other  balsas 
and  men." 

Wednesday,  March  31:  "The  up-river 
people  have  not  yet  arrived,  and  now 
it  looks  as  if  I  shall  have  to  go  after 


Rideout's  biography  gives  March  29, 
1909,  as  the  date  of  Jones'  death. 
However,  the  last  entry  in  Jones'  diary 
is  dated  April  2,  1909.  It  reads: 

It  rained  far  into  the  night  and  drizzled 
awhile  this  morning.  About  8  o'clock  it 
began  to  clear  and  at  10  the  sun  was  out. 
By  that  time  I  was  on  way  to  Panipagan 
where  I  am  now.  I  got  Pascual's  banquilla 
and  Gonuat  and  R.  poled.  At  Sanbei  I  ran 
into  Panakat  and  5  of  his  men.  They  had 
been  hunting  across  the  river  and  were 
probably  about  to  return  home.  I  went  ashore 
and  called  for  them  to  come  down.  They 
knew  why  I  had  come  and  were  at  first  slow 
about  coming.  I  then  went  up  to  a  man  who 
continued  to  work  and  got  behind  him.  This 
fetched  them  all  down  to  the  water. 

Then  I  told  them  in  sharp  language  what  I 
thought  about  people  who  lied  to  me  as 
they  had  done,  that  they  had  better  not 
return  but  go  on  down  to  Dinnabatu  Isic] 
where  I  would  see  them  tomorrow. 

Then  I  had  Panakat  get  in  the  banquilla  and 
come  on  with  us  to  his  town.  We  arrived 
here  about  four  or  little  after.  Immediately 
upon  my  arrival  at  Cipdut's  house  I  sent  for 
Takadan  and  Magin  to  come  this  evening, 
in  a  couple  of  hours  Takadan  arrived.  A 
heavy  shower  was  pouring  at  the  time.  I 
then  lashed  him  with  my  tongue.  I  tried  to 
shame  him  for  lying  to  me,  for  making 
bitals  with  me  and  not  keeping  them,  for 
ignoring  my  requests  which  he  said  he 
would  fulfill,  and  so  on.  Then  I  told  him  to 
send  runners  through  his  district  and  bring 
me  six  balsas  and  six  men  by  tomorrow 
forenoon;  that  if  the  balsas  were  not  here  I 
would  take  him  down  the  river  with  me.  He 
tried  to  persuade  me  to  let  him  go  home 
and  urge  his  people  to  comply  with  my 



Photograph  taken  at  Tamsi,  Luzon  by  Dr.  William 
Jones.  Adults  In  foreground,  left  to  right,  Wipat,  a 
hunter  from  Dumubatu;  Tal^adan.  headman  of 
Kagadyangan:  Inamon,  headman  of  Tamsi. 

wants,  but  I  told  him  he  had  lied  to  me  so 
often  that  I  could  not  believe  him  any 
longer.  I  told  him  to  go  sit  down  and  not 
leave  the  house  until  I  gave  him  permission 
to  do  so  and  to  send  anyone  he  wished  to 
carry  messages  to  his  people.  Tolan  was  in 
calling  distance  and  he  went  off  in  the 
rain  and  gathering  darkness  with  what  I 
had  told  Takadan. 

The  next  day,  according  to  Rideout,  a 
man  named  Palidat,  "w/hom  Jones  had 
cured  of  a  sickness,"  drew/  near, 
"patted  the  doctor  on  the  shoulder,  and 
smiled.  'We  shall  bring  more  balsas 
to-morrow,'  said  he;  and  at  the  same 
instant,  reaching  swiftly,  drew  his  bolo" 
and  struck  Jones  on  the  neck. 

Jones'  life  might  have  been  saved 
had  not  his  holster  flap  been  fastened. 
While  he  was  struggling  with  the 
button,  he  was  slashed  across  the  arm 
and  then  given  a  mortal  spear  wound 
below  the  heart.  Gonuat  and  Romano 
Dumaliang,  his  faithful  servants,  helped 
fight  the  llongots  off,  and  eventually 

were  able  to  get  Jones  on  board  the 
banquilla  and  push  off.  Poisoned 
arrows  shot  after  them  as  the  Pung-gu 
rapids  caught  the  boat  and  hurled 
them  downstream.  Dr.  Jones,  still 
conscious,  helped  bind  the  wounds  of 
his  companions.  Upon  reaching 
Dumubatu,  Romano,  according  to 

following  orders,  went  up  among  the  hovels 
and  called  the  people,  who  came  down  to 
the  shore  and  set  a  guard  roundabout;  for 
the  doctor's  only  fear  had  been  that  those 
llongots  up-river  might  descend  and  take 
his  head.  About  an  hour  later,  Romano  put 
some  question  to  his  master,  who  lay  still 
in  the  boat.  He  received  no  answer.  Jones 
had  quietly  closed  his  eyes  forever,  while 
the  great  stream  ran  silent  underneath  him 
and  tropic  stars  burned  overhead. 

Dr.  William  Jones  was  buried  in  the 
Municipal  Cemetery  at  Echague.  His 
murderers  were  captured,  tried,  and 
sentenced  to  death  by  the  Court  of 
First  Instance,  given  clemency  by  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  Islands,  and 

allowed  by  their  native  constabulary 
guard  to  escape.  Field  Museum 
assistant  curator  of  anthropology  S.  C. 
Simms  went  out  to  Luzon  to  collect 
the  results  of  Dr.  Jones'  year  and  a 
half  of  work.  Mr.  Simms  also  provided 
for  a  suitable  monument  to  be  erected 
at  the  spot  where  the  body  of  Dr. 
Jones  was  buried. 

Why  was  Jones  killed?  The  evidence 
does  not  point  to  much  premeditation, 
although  the  decision  to  kill  him  may 
have  been  made  when  Jones  detained 
Takadan.  Jones  had  been 
understandably  irritated.  Travel 
conditions  in  1908  were  not  such  that 
he  could  get  down  to  Manila  for  a 
weekend  respite.  He  had  spent  sixteen 
long  and  arduous  months  with  the 
llongots.  He  had  lost  his  temper  before 
with  no  serious  repercussions.  But 
Takadan  was  an  elder,  and  the 
llongots  had  a  great  respect — almost 
a  reverence — for  their  elders.  Jones,  in 
his  impatience  to  get  downstream  to 
Aparri,  on  to  Manila,  and  then  home  to 
his  fiancee  and  his  work  among  the 
Indians,  may  have  overstepped  his 
bounds,  crossed  a  line  which  no 
llongot  could  let  go  unrevenged.  The 
llongots  lived  in  a  world  of  violence. 
To  kill  and  take  a  head  was  a  sign  of 
manhood,  a  sign  of  a  great  warrior. 
Ten  years  later  may  have  made  a 
difference  in  their  reactions — or  in 
Jones'.  Perhaps  it  was  simply  an 
impulse — an  old  grudge,  a  new 
provocation,  a  quick  strike,  and  then 
death.  It  was  over.  Perhaps  we'll  never 

Artifacts  from  Dr.  Jones'  Luzon  expedition 
may  be  seen  in  cases  20  and  21,  Hall  A,  on 
the  ground  floor  ot  the  Museum.  Thanks 
go  to  Mr.  Christopher  Legge,  custodian 
ot  collections,  and  Dr.  Donald  Collier, 
curator  ot  Middle  and  South  American 
anthropology  and  ethnology,  for  their  help 
in  researching  this  article. 

Barbara  Stoner  is  a  member  of  the  staff  in 
the  public  relations  office.  Field  Museum. 



The  Moths  of  America  North  of  Mexico, 
including  Greenland.  Fascicle  21, 

By  Ronald  W.  Hodges.  London: 

E.  W.  Classey  &  R.B.D.  Publications,  1971. 

158  pp.  $24.00. 

The  first  fascicle  of  the  proposed  14  volumes 
of  The  Moths  of  America  North  of  Mexico, 
including  Greenland  is  now  available. 
Hopefully,  In  a  few  years  the  monumental 
task  will  be  complete. 

Aside  from  numerous  articles  and 
monographs  dealing  with  restricted  families, 
genera,  and  species,  there  has  previously 
been  only  one  general  treatment  of  North 
American  moths — The  Moth  Book,  by  W.  J. 
Holland,  published  in  1905,  long  out  of  print, 
and  only  recently  reprinted  in  paperback 
form.  This  included  mostly  common  species 
and  selected  representatives  of  various 
families  and  genera.  Although  Holland's 
work  was  in  itself  an  enormous  undertaking, 
it  was  incomplete  and  quite  difficult  to  use. 
But  it  was  the  only  comprehensive  work 
available.  That  is,  until  now. 

There  are  more  than  10,000  species  of  moths 
in  the  fauna  of  America  north  of  Mexico. 
Every  species,  as  well  as  major  polymorphic 
forms  and  subspecies  will  be  illustrated  in 
full  color.  But  the  series  will  be  much  more 
than  merely  a  pictorial  presentation.  The  text 
will  consist  of  a  synthesis  of  all  revisionary 
studies  up  to  the  time  of  publication.  New 
genera  and  species  will  be  described.  It 
will  be  in  essence  a  revision  of  the  moths  of 
this  region.  Information  on  the  biology, 
ecology,  and  distribution  of  the  species  will 
be  included.  The  mere  thought  of  such  a 
comprehensive,  definitive  series  boggles  the 

The  Sphingoidea  are  the  subject  of  this  first 
unit  of  the  series  to  be  published.  These 
moths  are  also  known  as  Sphinx  Moths, 
Hawk  Moths,  or  Humming-bird  Moths  to 
name  a  few.  These  are  medium-sized  to 
large  insects  that  frequent  flowers  at  dusk 

or  twilight.  Most  of  them  look  a  great  deal 
like  hummingbirds  when  they  are  feeding, 
since  they  hover  in  front  of  the  flower  and 
extend  their  proboscis  deep  into  the 
blossom  for  nectar.  The  larvae  are  quite 
robust  in  shape  and  are  voracious  feeders. 
All  of  us  who  have  grown  tomatoes  in  the 
summer  have  probably  encountered  tomato 
hornworm  larvae  contentedly  munching  away 
on  our  plants.  The  name  "hornworm"  comes 
from  the  fact  that  most  of  the  larvae  have  a 
conspicuous  spinelike  process  or  horn  on  the 
top  part  of  the  eighth  abdominal  segment. 

If  this  first  fascicle  of  the  series  is 
representative  of  the  volumes  to  follow, 
lepidopterists  have  a  great  deal  in  store  for 
them.  The  treatment  of  the  115  species  and 
40  genera  of  Sphingoidea  by  Dr.  Hodges  is 
excellent  in  all  respects.  The  higher 
categories  are  given  in  outline  form,  with 
separate  keys  to  the  genera  based  upon 
adult,  pupal,  and  lan/al  forms.  Keys  to  the 
species  based  upon  the  adults  are  given  in 
the  respective  genera.  In  instances  of  sexual 
dimorphism,  both  sexes  are  delineated  in 
the  species  keys.  All  species  are  illustrated 
in  color  photographs  that  have  a  very  high 
degree  of  fidelity  to  the  specimens.  Although 
subspecies  are  figures  in  the  plates,  they  are 
not  delineated  as  such  in  the  legends.  It  is 
necessary  to  turn  to  the  text  for  a  discussion 
of  these  forms.  Key  characters  are  illustrated 
for  many  of  the  species  with  line  drawings. 
Technical  terms  are  fully  explained  and 
illustrated  in  a  section  on  structural  features 
following  the  color  plates.  Many  references 
to  more  specific  works  are  given  at  the  end 
of  the  work.  In  addition  to  the  taxonomic 
treatment.  Dr.  Hodges  gives  information  on 
the  distribution  of  the  species  and  their 
relative  abundance,  and  in  many  cases  lists 
known  larval  food  plants. 

The  work  was  designed  for  use  by  both  the 
professional  and  the  amateur  entomologist, 
as  is  obvious  from  this  brief  account  of  its 
contents.  But  it  is  more  than  this  alone.  This 
fascicle  on  the  Sphingoidea  is  a  complete 
taxonomic  revision  of  the  group.  There  are 

seventeen  name  changes  presented.  Two 
new  genera  are  created,  one  new  species 
described,  one  genus  is  synonomized,  and  a 
total  of  twelve  species  are  reassigned  to 
their  proper  genera.  This  is  somewhat 
amazing,  since  sphingids  are  some  of  the 
largest  and  most  widely  collected  of  the 
moths.  The  only  criticism  accompanying 
these  taxonomic  changes  is  the  lack  of  any 
notation  to  this  effect  in  the  general  section 
on  classification,  plate  legends,  or  index. 
It  is  necessary  to  examine  each  page  of  the 
text  to  discover  any  nomenclatural  changes. 
This  is  only  a  minor  point  and  cannot  detract 
from  this  magnificent  work.  It  is  merely  a 
matter  of  style. 

It  is  difficult  to  avoid  the  use  of  superlatives 
in  trying  to  describe  the  impact  and 
significance  of  this  series.  Each  fascicle  will 
be  a  "must"  for  serious  students  of  the 
subject,  whether  professional  or  amateur. 
Since  each  group  of  volumes  will  stand  as 
a  complete  taxonomic  unit,  the  cost  of  the 
entire  series  (almost  $1,000)  will  not  be  a 
serious  burden  to  the  specialist  desiring  only 
a  few  of  the  volumes.  It  should  also  be 
pointed  out  that  the  plan  of  production  of 
The  Moths  of  America  North  of  Mexico  calls 
for  the  publication  of  three  or  four  fascicles 
each  year.  Thus  purchase  of  the  entire 
series  would  be  spread  over  a  period  of 
several  years.  This  would  make  it  quite 
feasible  for  many  libraries  to  acquire  the 
series,  as  indeed  they  should. 

by  Dr.  John  Kethley,  assistant  curator, 
insects,  Field  Museum. 



New  Curatorial  Staff 

Two  new  curatorial  appointments  are 
announced  for  Field  Museum's  Department 
of  Anthropology  effective  September  1 . 

Dr.  Bennet  Bronson,  the  new  assistant 
curator  of  Asiatic  archaeology  and  ethnology, 
received  his  doctorate  from  the  University 
of  Pennsylvania  in  June.  He  was  field 
director  of  the  University  Museum/National 
Museum  of  Thailand  Joint  Archaeological 
Expedition,  1968  and  1969,  and  the 
University  of  Pennsylvania  Archaeological 
Program  in  Ceylon,  1970.  Dr.  Bronson's 
field  experience  includes  excavations  in 
England,  Guatemala,  Turkey,  Iran,  Thailand, 
and  Ceylon. 

Dr.  John  Terrell,  who  recently  received  his 
Ph.D.  in  anthropology  from  Harvard 
University,  becomes  assistant  curator  of 
Oceanic  archaeology  and  ethnology.  His 
doctoral  research  includes  archaeological 
surveys  and  excavations  on  the  island  of 
Bougainville  in  the  Solomons.  Field  research 
by  Dr.  Terrell  includes  excavations  in 
England,  France,  Neo-lndian  sites  in  the 
United  States,  New  Zealand,  the  Tonga 
Islands,  and  Western  Samoa. 

Geology  Field  Trips  and  Course  in 
Natural  History  of  Chicago  Region 

Field  Museum's  Department  of  Education 
and  the  University  of  Chicago  Extension 
are  cooperatively  offering  this  fall: 

Geology  field  trips  September  25-26  to 
Galena,  Illinois  and  environs  and  October 
16-17  to  Baraboo  Range  and  Devil's  Lake, 
Wisconsin.  Both  will  be  conducted  by 
Dr.  Matthew  H.  Nitecki,  associate  curator 
in  the  Museum's  Department  of  Geology. 

A  course  of  four  lectures  and  one  panel 
discussion  on  the  ecology  of  northeastern 
Illinois.  October  11  Matthew  H.  Nitecki  will 
explain  how  the  geology  of  the  region  is 
responsible  for  the  present  flora  and  fauna 
and  our  economic  growth  and  will  discuss 
the  future  of  the  city.  October  18  Floyd 

A.  Swink,  naturalist.  Morton  Arboretum,  will 
show  how  the  flora  have  changed 
profoundly  because  of  man's  activities. 
October  25  W.  J.  Beecher,  director,  Chicago 
Academy  of  Sciences,  will  compare  the 
present  ecology  of  the  region  with  what  it 
was  before  man  disturbed  it  and  with  the 
ecology  of  other  regions.  November  8 
Loren  P.  Woods,  curator  of  fishes,  Field 
Museum,  will  discuss  the  change  of  Great 
Lakes  fish  and  fishing  because  of  man's 
intrusions.  November  15  these  four 
specialists  will  summarize  how  conservation 
measures  can  influence  the  ecological 
future  of  our  region. 

Tuition  for  each  field  trip  is  $25  (or  $45 
for  both)  and  includes  transportation  on  a 
chartered  bus.  Tuition  for  the  course  is 
$35.  Museum  Members  are  eligible  for  a 
10  percent  discount  for  field  trips  and 
course.  Call  Mrs.  Maria  Matyas,  University 
of  Chicago  Extension,  Financial  6-8300, 
for  further  information  and  reservations. 

In  Sympathy 

Carl  W.  Cotton,  Museum  taxidermist,  died  on 
July  5th  after  a  five-month  illness.  He  was 
53  years  old.  Mr.  Cotton  joined  the  Field 
Museum  staff  in  September,  1947,  as 
assistant  taxidermist.  He  became  taxidermist 
on  January  1,  1952.  Creative  and  versatile, 
Mr.  Cotton  was  equally  proficient  with  both 
birds  and  mammals.  We  extend  our 
sympathies  to  his  family. 

Nephew  of  Malvina  Hoffman 
Visits  Museum 

Collecting  Fossils  in  Nepal 

Mrs,  Edward  Byron  Smith  (left),  president  of  Field 
Museum's  Women's  Board,  sliows  Malvina  Hoffman's 
sculpture  "Tfie  Cockflgtit"  to  guests  of  tionor: 
Malvina  Hoffman's  nepfiew  Cfiarles  M.  Hoffman,  his 
daughter  Mary  FIske,  and  Mrs.  Hoffman.  The 
occasion  was  a  luncheon  given  by  the  Women's 
Board  highlighting  the  life  and  works  of  Malvina 
Hoffman  with  a  film  program  and  presentation  of  an 
informal  paper  by  Mrs.  Frank  Mayer.  Field  Museum's 
new  permanent  exhibit,  "Portraits  of  Man,"  is  a 
selected  group  of  the  famous  sculptress'  work. 

Dr.  Eugene  Richardson,  curator  of  fossil 
Invertebrates,  and  Reeve  Byron  Waud  examine  a 
two-hundred-mllllon-year-old  ammonite  which 
Reeve  donated  to  the  Museum. 

Reeve  Byron  Waud,  seven-year-old  Museum 
Member  and  son  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cornelius 
Waud,  recently  donated  a  two-hundred- 
million-year-old  fossil  ammonite  to  the 
Museum.  Reeve  collected  the  fossil  in  the 
bed  of  the  Kali  Gandaki  River  between 
Sikung  and  Larjung  in  Western  Nepal  while 
on  a  300-mile  walking  trip  through  Nepal 
last  March  with  his  parents,  his  grandparents 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lawrence  Reeve,  and  eight 
Reeve  children. 

The  fossil  was  one  of  over  thirty  collected 
by  Reeve  on  the  trip.  "It  was  hard  carrying 
them,"  says  Reeve,  whose  total  collection 
weighs  over  ten  pounds.  "I  picked  up  as 
many  fossils  as  I  could  carry  in  a  day. 
Usually,  I  had  to  carry  them  in  my  hat." 

A  newcomer  to  rock  hound  circles,  Reeve 
says  he  is  going  to  continue  collecting 
fossils  now.  "If  I  was  just  going  to  keep  the 
fossils,"  commented  Reeve,  "I  don't  see 
much  use  in  them.  But  using  these  to  start 
a  collection,  there  is  quite  a  use.  You  can 
look  up  and  learn  things  from  them.  You 
can  learn  what  kind  of  things  were  living 
millions  and  millions  of  years  ago." 

"Dr.  Richardson  [curator  of  fossil 
invertebrates]  showed  me  many  drawers  of 
ammonites  from  the  Museum's  collection," 
said  Reeve,  "but  we  did  not  find  any  other 
one  exactly  like  mine,"  which  Reeve 
considers  one  of  his  "best  fossils."  "I 
thought  the  Museum  should  have  it,"  said 
Reeve,  "because  it  is  one  of  the  best 
places  I  know  of  for  it." 

Before  leaving  the  Museum,  Reeve  talked 
with  Dr.  Matthew  Nitecki,  associate  curator 
of  fossil  invertebrates,  and  Dr.  John  Clark, 
associate  curator  of  sedimentary  petrology, 
about  his  fossil  find  and  about  Nepal. 



Members'  children  (or  grandchildren)  are 
invited  to  participate  in  the  Saturday 
workshops  that  have  become  highly  popular 
fall  events  at  Field  Museum.  The  workshops 
were  originated  eight  years  ago  by  the 
Raymond  Foundation  to  stimulate  interest  in 
natural  history  through  small-group 
instruction  on  a  variety  of  topics  that  appeal 
to  children  of  different  age  groups.  They 
offer  the  children  opportunity  to  get 
acquainted  with  our  staff  members  and  to 
work  with  actual  specimens  from  the 
Museum's  scientific  collections.  The 
programs  last  about  one  hour  for  younger 
children  and  about  one  and  a  half  hours  for 
older  ones.  Extra  time  should  be  allowed  if 
the  children  bring  specimens  of  their  own 
for  identification. 

Reservations  are  necessary,  and  we  urge 
that  they  be  sent  in  early.  The  size  of  each 
session  is  limited,  and  applications  will  be 
accepted  in  the  order  in  which  they  are 
received.  A  child  can  be  scheduled  into  one 
program  only.  Please  send  a  separate 
application  for  each  child  in  your  family  who 
wishes  to  participate.  Accepted  applicants 
will  be  sent  a  confirmation  card  that  will 
admit  them  to  the  workshop. 

All  workshops  begin  at  10:30  a.m. 

October  2       For  ages  7-9 
Eskimo  Seal  Hunt 

Edith  Fleming,  Leader 

After  viewing  the  film  Angote,  which  shows 
the  life  of  an  Eskimo  boy  from  the  time  he 
is  a  baby  until  he  is  old  enough  to  go  on 
his  first  seal  hunt,  boys  and  girls  see  and 
handle  real  hunting  equipment  used  by 
Eskimos:  weapons,  goggles  to  protect  the 
eyes  from  the  sun's  glare,  and  clothing 
designed  to  keep  out  the  Arctic  cold. 
Finally,  in  Museum  exhibits,  the  children 
seek  out  the  seal  in  its  native  habitat,  and 
learn  more  about  the  problems  of  the  hunt. 

October  9       For  ages  9-1 1 
Picture  Stories — Plains  Indian  Style 

Harriet  Smith,  Leader 

Children  learn  the  importance  of  animals  and 
of  story-telling  by  means  of  pictures  in  the 
lives  of  our  western  tribes,  by  viewing  a  film 
and  examining  actual  decorated  objects 
made  by  Plains  Indians.  They  have  the 
opportunity  to  draw  either  their  own 
picture-story  of  a  "happening"  on  a 
miniature  tipi  cover  or  their  own  dream  of 
the  future  on  a  (paper)  shield,  using  Indian 

October  16       For  ages  6-8 
Boneyard  Menagerie 

Ernest  Roscoe,  Leader 

Some  "family"  secrets  are  revealed  in  this 
session  as  the  boys  and  girls  discover  and 
discuss  prehistoric  relatives  of  familiar 
animals  found  in  zoos  and  aquaria.  Children 
should  be  accompanied  by  at  least  one 
parent.  Be  prepared  for  a  few  surprises! 

Application  for  Fall  Workshops 



2nd  choice 

4th  choice 

Membership  in  name  of 

Cut  along  dotted  line  and  nnail  to:  Raymond  Foundation,  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History, 
Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605 

October  23       For  ages  9-13 
African  Drums  and  IMasks 

Edith  Fleming,  Leader 

Some  original  African  art  and  music  are 
examined  and  then  used  as  inspiration  for 
the  boys  and  girls  to  create  their  own. 
African  masks  stimulate  them  to  make  their 
own  designs  with  colorful  materials,  such  as 
seeds  and  beads.  A  tape  of  African  drum 
music  recorded  in  Ghana  serves  to  inspire 
them  to  try  playing  African  rhylhms  on  real 
African  instruments. 

October  30       For  ages  6-8 
Boneyard  Menagerie  (repeat) 
Ernest  Roscoe,  Leader 

See  description  for  October  16. 

November  6       For  ages  9-13 
African  Drums  and  Masks  (repeat) 
Edith  Fleming,  Leader 

See  description  for  October  23. 

November  13       For  ages  9-13 

A  Half-Billion  Years  of  Chicago  History 

Ernest  Roscoe,  Leader 

Boys  and  girls  learn  the  history  of  the 
Chicago  area  as  it  has  been  deciphered 
from  study  of  the  rocks  and  fossils  of  our 
region.  They  examine  actual  specimens  of 
many  of  the  prehistoric  plants  and  animals 
we  can  all  collect  ourselves.  Parents  are 
invited  to  attend. 

November  20       For  ages  12-15 
Animal  Art  of  the  "Totem  Pole"  Indians 

Harriet  Smith,  Leader 

A  film  that  illustrates  the  totemic  art  of  the 
Northwest  Coast  Indians  plus  several  actual 
examples  of  the  art  demonstrate  the  close 
relationship  these  people  feel  with  certain 
animals  prominent  in  their  mythology.  Each 
participant  then  explains  why  he  chooses  a 
specific  animal  as  his  totem  and  stylizes  it 
into  symbolic  designs  he  paints  on  a  storage 
box  for  himself. 




Tnistaet  of  Field  Museum 

Harry  0.  Bercher 
Bowen  Blair 

William  McCormick  Blair 
William  R.  Dickinson,  Jr. 
Thomas  E.  Donnelley  II 
Marshall  Field 
Nicholas  Galitzine 
Paul  W.  Goodrich 
Remick  McDowell 
Hugo  J.  Melvoin 
J.  Roscoe  Miller 
William  H.  Mitchell 
Charles  F.  Murphy,  Jr. 
Harry  M.  Oliver,  Jr. 

Life  Trusteoi 

Joseph  N.  Field 
Clifford  C.  Gregg 
Samuel  Insull,  Jr. 
William  V.  Kahler 

John  T.  Pirie,  Jr. 
John  S.  Runnells 
William  L.  Searle 
John  M.  Simpson 
Edward  Byron  Smith 
Mrs.  Edward  Byron  Smith 
Mrs.  Mermen  Dunlap  Smith 
John  W.  Sullivan 
William  G.  Swartchild,  Jr. 
E.  Leiand  Webber 
Julian  B.  Wilkins 
J.  Howard  Wood 
Blaine  J.  Yarrington 

Hughston  M.  McBain 
James  L.  Palmer 
John  G.  Searle 
Louis  Ware 

Do  We  Have  Your  Name  and  Address 

Beginning  in  October,  the  Bulletin  will  be 
mailed  by  a  new  system.  If  your  name  is 
misspelled  or  your  address  is  incorrect  or 
if  you  do  not  receive  your  October  issue  by 
October  10,  please  contact  the  Membership 
Office.  We  need  your  help  in  order  to 
correct  any  errors  which  may  occur  in  the 
changeover  period  from  the  old  to  the  new 

Plan  Ahead 

Visits  to  Field  Museum  earlier  in  the  day  are 
recommended  for  Sundays  this  fall  when  the 
Chicago  Bears  play  home  games  in  Soldier 

Since  the  Southeast  parking  facilities  will  be 
filled,  the  North  lot  reserved  for  Museum 
visitors  will  undoubtedly  be  strained  to 
capacity  during  the  afternoon  games. 

Dates  to  remember  are  September  12  and 
19,  October  10  and  31,  November  7,  14  and 
21,  and  December  19. 


9  a.m.  to  6  p.m.  Monday.  Tuesday,  and  Thursday, 
and  9  a.m.  to  9  p.m.  Wednesday,  Friday,  Saturday, 
and  Sunday  until  Labor  Day. 

Beginning  September  7,  hours  are  9  a.m.  to  5  p.m. 
daily,  Saturday  through  Thursday.  Special  Friday 
hours  are  9  a.m.  to  9  p.m. 

The  Museum  Library  is  open  9  a.m.  to  4:30  p.m. 
Monday  through  Friday. 


Through  September  6 
Deerskin  Jacket  with  painted  decoration 
depicting  warriors  on  horseback,  displayed 
in  the  North  Lounge.   A  recent  gift  of 
Mrs.  Richard  D.  Stevenson,  the  jacket  was 
collected  by  her  grandfather.  Carter  H. 
Harrison  III,  in  the  early  part  of  this  century 
from  the  Sioux,  probably  of  the  Pine  Ridge 

Begins  September  7 

Rare  Ancient  Numismatic  Collection,  a 

highly  important  group  of  seven  silver 
Greek  coins  from  the  archaic  and  finest 
periods,  and  two  Roman  medallions  dating 
from  the  third  and  fourth  centuries  A.D., 
displayed  in  the  South  Lounge  through 
November  7.   The  coins  and  medallions  are 
part  of  a  collection  donated  to  Field  Museum 
by  Jon  Holtzman  of  Madison,  Wisconsin, 
and  Paul  Holtzman  of  Las  Vegas,  Nevada. 


Color  in  Nature,  an  exhibit  examining  the 
nature  and  variety  of  color  in  the  physical 
and  living  world,  and  how  it  functions  in 
plants  and  animals.  It  focuses  on  the  many 
roles  of  color,  as  in  mimicry,  camouflage, 
warning,  sexual  recognition  and  selection, 
energy  channeling,  and  vitamin  production, 
using  Museum  specimens  as  examples. 
Through  November  28.  Hall  25. 

The  Afro-American  Style,  From  the  Design 
Works  of  Bedford-Stuyvesant,  an  exhibit  of 
textiles  blending  classical  African  motifs  and 
contemporary  design.  The  original  Field 
Museum  Benin  artifacts  which  inspired 
many  of  the  designs  are  also  shown. 
Financial  assistance  for  the  exhibit  was 
received  from  the  CNA  Foundation,  Chicago, 
and  the  Illinois  Arts  Council,  a  state  agency. 
Through  December  31.   Hall  9. 

John  James  Audubon's  elephant  folio.  The 
Birds  ot  America,  on  display  in  the  North 
Lounge.   A  different  plate  from  the  rare, 
first-edition  volumes  is  featured  each  day. 

Field  Museum's  75th  Anniversary  Exhibit 

continues  indefinitely.  "A  Sense  of  Wonder" 
offers  thought-provoking  prose  and  poetry 
associated  with  physical,  biological,  and 
cultural  aspects  of  nature;  "A  Sense  of 
History"  presents  a  graphic  portrayal  of 
the  Museum's  past,  and  "A  Sense  of 
Discovery"  shows  examples  of  research 
conducted  by  Museum  scientists.   Hall  3. 

Children's  Programs 

Begins  September  1 

"Between  the  Tides,"  Fall  Journey  for 
Children,  takes  them  shell  hunting  for  exotic 
and  beautiful  specimens  in  the  Museum 
exhibit  areas.   All  youngsters  who  can  read 
and  write  are  welcome  to  join  in  the 
activity.  Journey  sheets  are  available  at 
Museum  entrances.   Through  November  30. 

Film  and  Tour  Program 

Through  September  3 

Free  Guided  Tour  of  Field  Museum  exhibit 
areas  leaves  from  the  North  information 
booth  at  2  p.m.  Monday  through  Friday. 
A  color  motion  picture,  "Through  These 
Doors,"  focusing  on  behind-the-scenes 
activities  at  the  Museum,  is  shown  at  3  p.m. 
in  the  Lecture  Hall,  following  the  tour. 


Free  Natural  History  Film  "Patterns  for 
Survival"  (A  Study  of  Mimicry)  presented  at 
11  a.m.  and  1  p.m.  on  Saturday,  and  11 
a.m.,  1  p.m.,  and  3  p.m.  on  Sunday  in  the 
second  floor  Meeting  Room.   The  half-hour 
film  offers  an  overall  view  of  protective 
coloration  in  insects  and  provides  visitors 
with  an  insight  into  the  "Color  in  Nature" 
exhibit.   Through  November  28. 


September  8:  7  p.m.,  Chicago 
Ornithological  Society 

September  8:  7:30  p.m..  Windy  City  Grotto, 
National  Speleological  Society 

September  12:  2  p.m.,  Chicago  Shell  Club 

September  14:  7:45  p.m.,  Nature  Camera 
Club  of  Chicago 

September  14:  8  p.m.,  Chicagoland  Glider 

September  19:  2  p.m.,  Illinois  Orchid 

Coming  in  October 

Fall  Film  Lecture  Series,   2:30  p.m. 
Saturdays  in  the  James  Simpson  Theatre. 

October  2:  "Botswana,"  narrated  by 
Roy  Coy. 

October  9:  "Railroads  are  Fun,"  narrated 
by  Thayer  Soule. 

October  16:  "Norse  Adventure,"  narrated 
by  Hjordis  Kittel  Parker. 

October  23:  "Our  Glorious  National  Parks," 
narrated  by  Edward  M.  Brigham,  Jr. 

October  30:  "Ecuador  &  Darwin's 
Galapagos,"  narrated  by  Hugh  Hope. 

Volume  42,  Number  9 

October  1971 

Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 



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Cover:  Modernization  and   renovation  of  Field 
Museum's  building  are  the  purposes  for  which 
the  Museum  has  launched  a  $25,000,000  Capital 
Campaign,  the  first  in  its  sevenly-eight-year 


Volume  42,  Number  9 
October  1971 

(2   About  Field  Museum 

Joyce  Zibro 

the  unique  purpose  and  function  of  Field  Museum  as  told 

in  a  brief  history  of  the  Museum,  1893  -  1971 

(Tlviore  About  Field  Museum,  or  Why  We  Need  $25,000,000 

Elizabeth  Munger 

what's  behind  the  first  capital  campaign  in  the 

seventy-eight-year  history  of  Field  Museum 

16    Notes  From  Underground 

Harry  G.  Nelson 

everything  you  always  wanted  to  l<now  about  earthworms 

and  more 

20    Migrations 

Melvin  A.  Traylor 

the  more  one  learns  about  bird  migrations,  the  more  one 

is  impressed  by  the  amazing  diversity  of  patterns 

22    Before  Credit  Cards 

Elizabeth  Munger 

several  important  ancient  Greek  coins  recently  donated 
to  the  Museum  provide  a  jumping-off  point  for  a 
discussion  of  early  Western-world  coinage 

24    Field  Briefs 


Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 
Director,  E.  Leiand  Webber 

Editor  Joyce  Zibro;  Associate  Editor  Elizabeth  Munger; 
Fred  Huysmans. 

Staff  Writer  Madge  Jacobs;  Production  Russ  Becker;  Photograptiy  John  Bayalls, 

The  Bulletin  is  published  monthly  except  August  by  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois 
60605.  Subscriptions:  $9  a  year;  $3  a  year  for  schools.  Members  of  the  Museum  subscribe  through  Museum  membership.  Opinions  expressed 
by  authors  are  their  own  and  do  not  necessarily  reflect  the  policy  of  Field  Museum.  Unsolicited  manuscripts  are  welcome.  Application  to  mail 
at  second-class  postage  rates  is  pending  at  Chicago,  Illinois.  Postmaster:  Please  send  form  3579  to  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History. 
Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605. 


About  Field  Museum     Joyce  zibro 

Museum  staff  in  1909.  Photograpfi  taken  upon  ttie  occasion  of  the  visit  of  Commissioners  Wada  and   Sal<ai   of  tfie  Japanese  Exposition.   First  row,   left  to  rigtit, 
Commissioner  Wada^  Frederick  J.  V.  Skiff,  director  1884-1921;  Commissioner  Sakai.   Second  row,   Patrick  Bropfiy,  guard,  1894-1923;  Charles  B.   Cory,  Zoology, 
1906-1921;   George  A.   Dorsey,  Anthropology,   1896-1915;   unidentified   member  of  the  Japanese  delegation;   Miss  Elsie  LIppincott,   library,   1897-1930;   Oliver  C. 
Farrington,  Geology,   1894-1933;   Charles  F.  Millspaugh,   Botany,   1893-1923;   Richard   N.  Abbey,  guard,  1908-1938.  Third  row,  Jesse  M.  Greenman,  Botany,   1905-1912; 
William  J.  Gerhard,  Zoology,  1901-1950;  David  C.  Davies  successively  served   as  accountant,   recorder,  auditor,  and  director,  1894-1928;  Carl   E.  Akeley,  taxidermist, 
1896-1909;  Edmund  N.  Gueret,  Zoology,  1900-1940.  Fourtli  row,  Henry  W.   Nichols.   Geology,   1894-1944;  Elmer  S.  Riggs,  Geology,   1898-1942;  Albert  B.  Lewis. 
Anthropology,   1907-1940.   Top  row,  Arthur  W.  Slocum,  Geology,   1901-1914. 


In  his  autobiography,  Harlow  Shapley, 
the  famous  astronomer  of  Harvard 
University,  wrote  concerning  his  early 
career,  "I  realized  that  I  could  do 
things  other  people  could  not  or  would 
not  do,  and  therefore  I  was  useful." 

Dr.  Alan  Solem,  curator  of  invertebrates 
at  Field  Museum,  applying  this 
statement  to  natural  history  museums, 
asked  in  the  December  1970  issue  of 
this  magazine,  "What  can  a  natural 
history  museum  do  that  other 
institutions  cannot  or  will  not?  Where 
can  we  be  useful?  .  .  .  What  are  the 
unique  aspects  of  Field  l^useum  as  an 

Dr.  Solem  answered  these  questions 
this  way: 

Collections,  library,  trained  staff.  Our 
collections  of  natural  history  and 
ethnographic  objects  bring  scientists  and 
students  from  all  parts  of  the  world  to  study 
in  Chicago  and  are  utilized  on  a  loan  basis 
by  scholars  in  every  continent  except 
Antarctica.  Our  library  is  equally  fine.  Our 
staff  of  scientists  and  technicians  makes  use 
of  these  collections  and  library  resources  on 
a  daily  basis.  Their  work  cannot  be  done  at 
an  Institution  without  these  facilities.  Only 
natural  history  museums  provide  them. 
Universities  do  not,  businesses  cannot,  only 
museums  can. 

Sometimes  our  research  involves 
immediately  relevant  problems — medically 
important  ectoparasites  of  Venezuela  or  a 
forest  resource  survey  of  Amazonian  Peru. 
Usually  we  work  on  basic  problems  whose 
practical  applications  may  be  decades  away 
or  undreamt  of  at  the  time  of  study. 

But  this  Is  not  an  attempt  to  justify  the 
research  and  collection  activities  of  Field 
Museum.  Our  acknowledged  function  is  not 
just  to  discover,  collect  and  correlate 
knowledge,  but  also  to  disseminate 
knowledge.  This  can  be  through  technical 
literature,  through  popular  writing,  but  more 
directly  through  the  parts  of  the  Museum 
used  by  the  public — the  exhibition  halls,  the 
school  programs,  the  public  lectures,  the 
traveling  school  exhibits,  and  university  level 
teaching  ...  No  one  else  has  the  variety  of 
nature  and  man's  work,  no  one  else  can 
show  it. 

Dr.  Solem  goes  on  to  suggest,  however, 
that  while  discovery,  collection,  and 
dissemination  of  knowledge  are  and 
should  remain  prime  functions  of  the 
Museum,  this  is  not  enough.  Field 

Museum  can  be  useful  to  society  in 
other  unique  ways.  One  such  unique 
capability  and  possibility  for  Field 
Museum  to  further  serve  society,  he 
suggests,  is  in  the  interpretation  of  the 
ecology  of  the  earth.  "We  can  show,  in 
environmental  exhibits,"  he  says,  "how 
the  world  functions.  How  it  is  based  on 
energy  from  the  sun,  converted  by 
plants  and  either  used  immediately  or 
stored  for  future  use.  We  can  show 
with  our  cultural  objects  and  natural 
history  specimens  how  climate,  soil, 
water  and  topography  limit  the 
activities  and  abundance  of  all  species, 
including  man  .  .  .  These  are  things 
we  can  do  better  than  others  and  be 
useful  to  society." 

In  this  day  when  more  and  more 
demands  are  being  made  on  museums 
in  general  and  Field  Museum  in 
particular  to  serve  an  ever-increasing 
and  better-educated  public,  it  is 
perhaps  appropriate  to  review  how  this 
great  permanent  treasure  of  useful 
things  and  knowledge  which  is  Field 
Museum  came  to  be  established  in 
Chicago  and  how  it  grew  to  become 
one  of  the  four  greatest  natural  history 
museums  in  the  world. 

It  is  of  course  the  story  of  people,  the 
human  element,  which  made  Field 
Museum  the  great  institution  it  is  today. 

"The  human  element  is  the  only  force 
which  is,  in  the  last  instant,  responsible 
for  the  combination  of  forces  which 
made  Chicago  not  only  large,  but 
great,"  wrote  J.  Christian  Bay 
(Librarian  of  John  Crerar  Library)  back 
in  1929.  "Anybody  who  scans  the  lists 
of  residents  of  our  early  days  will  stop 
again  and  again  at  names,  each  of 
which  signifies  some  important 
departure  in  the  city's  life,  some  great 
and  generous  act  or  some  small 
beginning  of  things  that  grew 
significant  in  time." 

The  idea  of  a  great  permanent 
museum  for  Chicago  was  neither 
suddenly  born  nor  quickly  realized. 
That  idea  developed  from  1890  onward 
together  with  plans  for  the  World's 

Columbian  Exposition  held  in  Chicago 
in  1893  to  celebrate  the  four  hundredth 
anniversary  of  the  landing  of  Columbus 
in  America. 

The  first  published  suggestion  that  a 
permanent  natural  history  museum  be 
formed  as  a  result  of  the  Exposition 
was  an  article  by  Frederic  W.  Putnam 
in  the  Chicago  Tribune  of  May  31 , 

1890.  Putnam  was  curator  of  the 
Peabody  Museum  and  professor  of 
anthropology  at  Harvard  University  and 
served  as  chief  of  the  Department  of 
Ethnology  and  Archaeology  at  the 
Exposition.  He  successfully  brought 
together  the  most  extensive 
anthropology  exhibit  of  its  kind  ever 
assembled,  and  was  also  responsible 
for  most  of  the  natural  history  exhibits 
at  the  fair.  He  advocated  that  these 
collections  and  exhibits  should  be  kept 
together  to  form  the  nucleus  of  a  great 
natural  history  museum.  In  November 

1891,  in  an  address  to  the  Commercial 
Club  of  Chicago,  he  outlined  the 
administrative  organization  of  the 
proposed  museum,  the  organization 
and  activities  of  its  scientific 
departments  (anthropology,  botany, 
geology,  and  zoology),  and  the  nature 
of  its  exhibits.  These  proposals  were 
to  become  the  blueprint  of  the  future 

Putnam's  views  were  shared  by  many 
leading  citizens,  including  Edward  E. 
Ayer,  Norman  Ream,  and  James 
Ellsworth.  The  interest  of  Chicagoans 
was  aroused  and  in  a  public  meeting 
held  on  August  7,  1893,  and  attended 
by  about  one  hundred  leading  citizens, 
a  committee  was  appointed  "to  adopt 
measures  to  establish  in  Chicago  a 
great  museum  that  shall  be  a  fitting 
memorial  of  the  World's  Columbian 
Exposition  and  a  permanent  advantage 
and  honor  to  the  city." 

A  charter  was  obtained  on  September 
16,  1893  under  the  title  Columbian 
Museum  of  Chicago,  with  sixty-five 
citizens  as  incorporators  and  fifteen 
as  trustees. 

Officials  of  the  Exposition  who  had 
become  actively  interested  in  the  plan 


Prince  Frederick  and  Princess  Ingrid  of  Denmark 
and  Iceland  visit  the  Museum  on  April  25,  1939. 

ior  the  museum  solicited  and  procured 
from  exhibitors  gifts  and  transfer  of 
desirable  exhibits.  Meanwhile, 
enthusiastic  sponsors  of  the  museum 
instituted  a  campaign  to  raise  funds. 
But  the  country-wide  financial 
stringency  which  developed  to 
alarming  proportions  in  1894  was 
already  beginning  to  be  felt,  and  by 
the  middle  of  October,  in  the  words  of 
the  Museum's  first  director,  Frederick 
J.  V.  Skiff,  "A  period  of 
discouragement  came  upon  those  at 
work  for  the  Museum.  Nothing  but  the 
faith,  devotion,  and  courage  of  a  few 
men  prevented  the  disintegration  of  the 
preliminary  organization  and  the 
practical  abandonment  of  the  Museum 

Marshall  Field,  probably  the  richest 
man  in  Chicago,  had  been  approached 
several  times  to  give  one  million 
dollars.  He  always  responded,  "I  don't 
know  anything  about  a  museum  and  I 
don't  care  to  know  anything  about  a 
museum.  I'm  not  going  to  give  you  a 
million  dollars."  Edward  E.  Ayer,  who 
was  to  become  the  first  president  of 
the  Museum,  made  one  last  attempt  to 
persuade  Field  to  change  his  mind  as 
the  closing  time  for  the  Exposition 
approached  in  late  October.  "You  have 
an  opportunity  here,"  he  told  Field, 
"that  has  been  vouchsafed  to  very  few 
people  on  earth.  From  the  point  of 
view  of  natural  history  you  have  the 
privilege  of  being  the  educational  host 
of  the  untold  millions  of  people  who 
will  follow  us  in  the  Mississippi  Valley. 
There  is  practically  no  museum  of 
any  kind  within  five  hundred  miles;  and 
these  children  who  are  growing  up  in 
the  region  by  hundreds  of  thousands 
haven't  the  remotest  opportunity  of 
learning  about  the  ordinary  things  they 
see  and  talk  about  and  hear  about 
every  day  of  their  lives.  .  .  ." 

This  time  Field  agreed  to  go  through 
the  Exposition  with  Ayer  before  saying 
no.  On  October  26,  the  day  following 
his  visit  to  the  Exposition,  Field 
announced  he  would  donate  one  million 
dollars  to  start  a  museum.  As  a  single 

gift  ioi  museum  purposes  it  shattered 
all  precedents  and  ensured  the 
establishment  and  permanence  of  the 
Museum.  Other  early  benefactors  of 
the  Museum  included  George  M. 
Pullman  and  Harlow  Higinbotham,  who 
each  gave  $100,000,  Mrs.  Mary  D. 
Sturges,  who  contributed  $50,000,  and 
Tiffany  and  Company,  McCormick 
Estate,  and  many  others  who  gave 

On  November  1  the  finance  committee 
sent  a  circular  to  Exposition 
stockholders  repeating  an  appeal  made 
in  the  Chicago  Evening  Post  of 
September  14  for  the  donation  of 
Exposition  stock  to  the  fund  for  a 
museum.  1,100  stockholders  came 
forth  to  donate  stock  from  which  the 
Museum  ultimately  realized  $193,000. 

In  honor  of  the  man  who  had  made 
the  dream  of  a  permanent  natural 
history  museum  in  Chicago  possible, 
the  name  was  changed  in  1894  to 
Field  Columbian  Museum,  and  finally, 
after  several  other  changes,  to  Field 
Museum  of  Natural  History  in  1966. 
Permanent  honor  is  thus  given  to  the 
Field  family,  which  has  been 
extraordinarily  generous  to  the  Museum 
throughout  the  years,  and  particularly 
to  Stanley  Field,  a  nephew  of  Marshall 
Field,  for  more  than  fifty  years 

(1908-1964)  president  and  chairman  of 
the  board. 

Marshall  Field  enjoyed  the  Museum 
very  much  during  his  lifetime  and 
made  contributions  estimated  at 
$430,000  toward  current  operating 
expenses.  On  his  death  in  January 
1906,  he  bequeathed  a  further  sum  of 
$8,000,000,  of  which  $4,000,000  was 
allotted  toward  the  erection  of  the 
present  building  and  $4,000,000  toward 
endowment  which  to  this  day  helps  to 
sustain  the  activities  of  the  Museum. 

Large  and  important  collections  and 
exhibits  that  had  been  shown  at  the 
Exposition  were  purchased.  Such 
purchases  included  the  Ward  natural 
history  collection,  the  Tiffany  collection 
of  gems,  the  Restrepo  collection  of 
pre-Hispanic  gold  ornaments  from 
Columbia,  the  Montez  archaeological 
collection  from  Cuzco,  Peru,  the 
Hassler  ethnological  collection  from 
Paraguay,  collections  representing 
Javanese,  Samoan,  and  Peruvian 
ethnology,  and  the  Hagenbeck 
collection  of  about  600  ethnological 
objects  from  Africa,  the  South  Sea 
Islands,  British  Columbia,  and  other 

In  addition,  collections  and  exhibits  of 
great  value  were  received  as  donations 
in  large  numbers.  Edward  E.  Ayer 
donated  his  extensive  anthropological 
collection  of  North  American  Indian 
material.  Special  collections  made  by 
the  Department  of  Mines,  Mining  and 
Metallurgy  of  the  Exposition  were 
donated,  together  with  the  exhibition 
cases,  and  from  the  Agriculture, 
Forestry  and  Manufactures  Departments 
of  the  Exposition,  collections  of 
timbers,  oils,  gums,  resins,  fibers,  fruits, 
seeds,  and  grains  were  contributed 
in  so  large  a  quantity  and  variety  as  to 
insure  for  the  first  time  in  any  general 
natural  history  museum  the  formation 
of  an  adequate  department  of  botany. 

The  Palace  of  Fine  Arts  building  (now 
housing  the  Museum  of  Science  and 
Industry)  of  the  Exposition  was 
obtained  at  the  close  of  the  Exposition 


Left,  the  original  N.  W.  Harris  Extension  truck  at 
ttie  Museum's  first  home  in  Jacltson  Parl(.  Right, 
Harris  Extension  driver  Gerald  Hardison  loads  some 
travelling  exhibits  In  the  present-day  truck. 

as  a  temporary  repository  and  became 
the  first  home  of  the  Museum. 

By  June  of  1894,  with  the  help  of 
experts  from  the  Exposition  staff  and 
individuals  with  museum  training  from 
other  institutions,  the  installation  of 
exhibits  in  the  Museum  was  sufficiently 
advanced  to  permit  opening  the  doors 
to  the  public.  On  the  afternoon  of 
Saturday,  June  2,  1894,  between  eight 
and  ten  thousand  persons  assembled 
at  the  north  steps  of  the  institution  in 
Jackson  Park  to  witness  the  opening 

The  Times  of  June  3  reported  the 
opening  like  this: 

It  was  all  like  a  memory  of  the  fair.  There 
were  the  hurrying  expectant  crowds  of 
people,  there  were  the  many  flags  and  the 
orators,  there  was  the  noble  art  palace  itself, 
the  most  beautiful  of  the  wonder  houses  of 
the  white  city  and  the  only  one  untouched 
by  the  wrecker,  every  object  within  its 
mazes  a  memento  of  the  day  when  the 
world  looked  toward  Jackson  park. 

So  Chicago  has  what  will  be  the  greatest  of 
all  museums,  an  institution  magnificently 
endowed  by  the  liberality  of  its  own  citizens, 
a  permanent  memorial  of  the  glories  of  the 
summer  of  '93. 

On  the  day  following  the  opening  of 
the  Museum,  some  16,000  people 
flocked  to  see  the  great  collections 

and  unique  treasures  of  the  Exposition 
that  were  to  be  permanently  preserved 
in  Chicago. 

During  that  first  year,  the  main  lines  of 
future  activities  were  established. 
Curators  were  appointed  to  the  various 
departments  and  as  early  as  October 
expeditions  and  field  work  to  expand 
the  collections,  to  fill  in  the  gaps,  were 
organized.  A  series  of  popular 
illustrated  lectures  was  instituted  on 
Saturday  afternoons  from  December  to 
May.  These  lectures  continue  today  as 
the  free  Edward  E.  Ayer  Lecture 
Series,  in  fall  (October  and  November) 
and  spring  (April  and  May),  each  of 
which  usually  fills  the  James  Simpson 
Theatre  to  its  capacity  of  1 ,000. 

The  Library  was  organized  as  early  as 
March  1894,  with  1,390  titles  from  the 
Department  of  Ethnology,  and  350 
titles  from  the  Department  of  Mines 
and  Mining  of  the  Exposition.  Before 
the  year  was  out  the  Kunz  collection 
of  books  on  geology,  gems  and 
metallurgy,  and  the  Cory  collection  on 
ornithology  (consisting  of  587  volumes) 
were  purchased,  and  the  fine 
ornithological  library  of  Edward  E.  Ayer 
was  added  as  a  gift.  The  Museum's 
exchange  program  with  other 

institutions  began  about  this  time,  and 
has  provided  the  bulk  of  the  Library 
holdings.  Today,  the  Library  contains 
1 75,000  volumes,  many  of  them  rare 
and  priceless,  all  of  them  important  to 
scientists,  students,  and  researchers  in 
the  field  of  natural  history. 

Plans  for  Museum  publications  were 
inaugurated,  the  decision  being  to 
confine  them  to  scientific  and  technical 
subjects,  especially  as  related  to 
Museum  exhibits  and  collections.  The 
first  of  the  more  than  1,100  issues  of 
Fieldiana,  as  the  continuing  series  of 
scientific  papers  and  monographs 
dealing  with  anthropology,  botany, 
geology,  and  zoology  came  to  be 
named,  appeared  in  1895. 

A  system  of  memberships  was 
instituted  and  privileges  were 
established  for  members  similar  to 
those  existing  today.  During  that  first 
year  723  members  were  enrolled,  an 
encouraging  indication  that  the 
continued  support  of  the  citizens  of 
Chicago  could  be  counted  on.  Today 
membership  numbers  over  21,000,  a 
figure  which  has  doubled  in  the  past 
five  years. 

From  the  beginning  it  was  desired  to 
extend  the  advantages  of  the  Museum 


A  few  members  of  tfie  scientific  staff  today.  Lett  column,  top  to  bottom,  Mr.  Hymen  Marx  (left),  associate 
curator  of  reptiles  and  amphibians  (witfi  Marx  is  Stiedd  Aquarium  Director  William  Braker):  Dr.  James  W. 
VanStone,  chairman,  Department  of  Anthropology:  Dr.  Phillip  H.  Lewis,  curator  of  primitive  art  and 
Melanesian  ethnology;  Dr.  John  B.  Kethley,  assistant  curator  of  insects.  Center  column,  top,  Dr.  John  Clark, 
associate  curator  of  sedimentary  petrology;  bottom,  Or.  Edward  Olsen,  curator  of  mineralogy.    Right  column, 
top  to  bottom.  Dr.  Eugene  Richardson,  curator  of  fossil  invertebrates;  Dr.  Louis  O.  Williams,  chairman, 
Department  of  Botany;  Mr.  Henry  Dybas,  associate  curator  of  insects;  Dr.  Emmet  R.  Blake,  curator  of  birds. 

to  all  school  children  by  providing  free 
admission  at  all  times  and  lectures  by 
Museum  staff.  In  1925,  Mrs.  James 
Nelson  Raymond  became  interested  in 
the  work  for  children  in  the  Museum 
and  provided  an  endowment  to 
develop  and  broaden  the  guide-lecture 
program  started  in  1922.  The 
guide-lecture  division  of  what  was  to 
become  the  Department  of  Education 
was  named  in  honor  of  her  and  her 
husband,  the  James  Nelson  and  Anna 
Louise  Raymond  Foundation  for  Public 
School  and  Children's  Lectures.  The 
Raymond  Foundation  grew  rapidly, 
adding  staff  and  new  programs  until 
today  the  seven-member  staff,  aided 
by  27  volunteers,  provides  guided 
tours  and  classroom  instruction  in  the 
Museum  to  over  100,000  school 
children  each  year,  offers  children's 
workshops  in  the  fall,  an  anthropology 
course  for  high  ability  students  in 
the  summer,  free  children's  movies, 
and  many  other  programs.  In  all,  over 
400,000  school  children  now  visit 
the  Museum  in  organized  groups  in 
each  year. 

The  other  division  of  the  Department 
of  Education,  the  N.  W.  Harris  Public 
School  Extension,  dates  from  1911 
when  Norman  Wait  Harris  gave  the 
fund  which  made  possible  loan  service 
to  schools  of  traveling  exhibits.  Today 
over  1 ,000  traveling  exhibits  are 
circulated  annually  to  over  600 
Chicago  schools,  hospitals,  and 
community  centers  through  the  Harris 

The  early  years  were  a  period  of 
growth,  organization,  and  consolidation. 
Acquisition  of  one  important  collection 
after  the  other  occurred  by  expedition, 
purchase,  or  contribution.  In  1909  an 
important  line  of  work  in  the 
Department  of  Botany  was  inaugurated 
in  the  establishment  of  facilities  for 
modeling  plants,  flowers,  and  fruits  in 
natural  colors  and  permanent  form. 
Frank  Boryca,  who  has  been  making 
plant  models  since  joining  the  staff  in 
1941,  is  well  known  for  his  expertise 
by  members  of  the  Museum  who  flock 
to  see  demonstrations  of  this  craft  on 

the  annual  Members'  Night. 

Long  before  meteorites  became  of 
popular  interest  the  Museum  was 
collecting  and  studying  them.  1913 
saw  the  acquisition  of  the 
Ward-Coonley  collection  of  meteorites, 
then  the  largest  private  collection  of 
these  celestial  bodies  in  existence. 
This,  combined  with  other  purchases, 
exchanges,  and  collections,  and  most 
recently  with  the  acquisition  of  over 
75  percent  of  the  Murchison  Meteorite 
which  fell  in  Australia  in  late  1969, 
make  Field  Museum's  collection  one 
of  the  three  most  important  meteorite 
collections  in  the  United  States.  Dr. 
Edward  Olsen,  curator  of  mineralogy, 
who  does  research  work  on  the 
meteorites,  feels  they  may  ultimately 
give  us  a  clue  to  the  origin  of  the 
solar  system  and  to  the  existence  of 
life  in  other  parts  of  space. 

The  Department  of  Zoology  from  the 
earliest  years  acquired  zoological 
research  collections  which  now  rank 
among  the  most  important  and  largest 
in  the  world.  The  Museum's  collection 
of  birds,  which  numbers  over  300,000, 
will  make  possible  the  preparation  for 
posterity  of  the  Manual  of  Neotropical 
Birds,  a  monumental  work  now  being 
written  by  the  Museum's  curator  of 
birds,  Dr.  Emmet  Blake.  When 
completed,  the  Manual  will  provide  for 
the  first  time  and  under  one  cover, 
taxonomic  information,  descriptions, 
appropriate  keys,  and  the  distribution 
of  more  than  3,200  species  and  over 
8,500  races  or  subspecies  of  Central 
and  South  American  birds  and  will 
have  great  potential  applied  value  in 
the  field  of  tropical  medical  research. 

The  period  1896  to  1915,  under  the 
leadership  of  Dr.  George  Dorsey,  who 
served  as  chief  curator  of  the 
Department  of  Anthropology,  was  an 
era  of  tremendous  collection  of 
anthropological  materials  which  cannot 
now  be  duplicated.  It  is  to  Dr.  Berthold 
Laufer,  who  succeeded  Dr.  Dorsey  in 
1915  and  headed  the  department  until 
his  death  in  1934,  that  the  Museum 

owes  fame  as  a  repository  of  one  of 
the  most  extensive  and  valuable 
Oriental  collections  in  the  world. 
Dr.  Laufer  understood  more  about  the 
peoples  of  China  and  Tibet  than 
perhaps  any  other  man  of  his  time. 
Under  Laufer's  leadership  the 
department  became  distinguished  for 
scholarship  and  research,  and  more 
scientific  papers  were  published 
during  his  nineteen  years  as  head  of 
the  department  than  ever  before.  An 
obituary  article  on  Dr.  Laufer  in  the 
October  1934  issue  of  this  magazine 
paid  this  tribute  to  a  great  man  of 

From  the  vast  depths  of  his  esoteric 
knowledge  he  upset,  with  quaint  narratives 
and  facts  gleaned  from  little-known  sources, 
many  a  set  of  smug  notions  of  a  too 
self-satisfied  generation.  To  a  world  in 
which  knowledge  of  aviation  generally  dated 
little  further  back  than  the  Wright  brothers, 
he  showed  that  flying  had  been  thought  of 
and  attempted  for  centuries  in  China,  Persia, 
and  elsewhere,  and  was  able  to  write  an 
entire  volume  on  the  subject.  The  idea  of 
television,  still  awaiting  perfection  by  modern 
engineers,  he  proved  had  germinated 
centuries  ago  in  Oriental  minds. 

From  1918  to  1921,  the  efforts  of  the 
entire  staff  were  devoted  to  packing 
the  collections  and  preparing  them 
for  transfer  to  the  Museum's  new  and 
permanent  home  in  Grant  Park.  The 
beautiful  structure  of  white  Georgian 
marble,  inspired  by  the  Erechtheum,  a 
temple  in  Athens  which  is  recognized 
as  the  finest  of  the  Ionic  order  that  has 
been  preserved  from  ancient  times, 
was  built  over  a  five-year  period  at  a 
cost  of  $7,136,866.  The  difference 
between  the  total  cost  of  the  building 
and  Marshall  Field's  bequest  of 
$4,000,000,  plus  its  accretions  during 
the  years  from  1906  to  1920,  amounted 
to  approximately  $828,000.  This  sum 
was  made  available  by  gifts. 

The  present  building  opened  on  May 
2,  1921.  Three  days  before,  Carl 
Sandburg  wrote  in  an  article  in  the 
Da/7y  News  titled  "World  Wonders  are 
in  Field  Museum": 

The  navy  recruiting  slogan  for  young  men  is 
"See  the  World."  An  older  admonition  is, 
"See  Rome  and  Die."  But  the  one  heard 


Dr.  Robert  F.  Inger  and  Mrs.  Inger  record  frog  calls  In  the  Congo  In  1960.  Dr.  Inger  was  Curator  of  Reptiles 
In  tlie  Museum's  Department  of  Zoology  when  this  photo  was  taken.  He  Is  now  Chairman  of  Scientific  Programs. 

most  often  in  this  country  in  recent  years  is, 
"See  America  first."  Before  starting, 
however,  to  see  either  the  world  or  Rome 
or  America  first,  a  few  good  long  trips 
around  the  Field  Museum  are  worthwhile. 
The  Museum  has  a  number  of  specimens 
and  articles  rather  difficult  to  find  even  in 
a  trip  around  the  world.  Also  there  are  a  few 
bits  of  paraphernalia  not  to  be  found 
anywhere  in  the  whatsoever  rambles  a 
tourist  might  choose  to  mai<e  between  the 
equator  and  either  of  the  poles. 

John  R.  Millar,  former  deputy  director 
of  Field  Museum  and  former  chief 
curator  of  botany  and  now  retired  and 
a  volunteer  in  the  care  of  the 
economic  collections  in  the  Department 
of  Botany  (he  joined  the  Museum  staff 
in  1918),  gave  this  account  of  the  50 
years  in  the  present  building  (June 
1971  Bulletin,  "Forward  and  Backward 

But  almost  as  soon  as  the  spacious  building 
was  occupied,  things  placed  according  to 
plan,  and  the  Museum  once  more  open  to 
visitors,  a  new  and  vigorous  growth  began 
lil<e  that  of  a  seedling  in  spring.  There 
ensued  a  period  of  unusually  active  field 
and  expeditionary  work  in  all  departments 
made  possible  by  an  enlarged  scientific  and 
preparatory  staff  and  the  generous  financial 
support  of  a  number  of  individuals, 
especially  Mr.  Stanley  Field,  president,  Mr. 
Marshall  Field  III,  and  other  trustees  of  the 
Museum.  Central  and  South  America,  Africa 
and  Asia,  as  well  as  various  areas  of  the 
United  States  and  subarctic  Canada  were  the 
locale  of  numerous  expeditions  that  resulted 
in  large  scientific  collections  as  well  as 
studies  and  specimens  for  exhibition.  With 
this  impetus  an  accelerated  program  in  all 
manner  of  Museum  activities  followed — 
research,  publications  of  scientific  reports, 
exhibitions  and  education — that  continues 
to  the  present. 

To  tell  the  entire  story  of  Field  Museum 
would  fill  volumes.  Many  of  the  exhibits 
for  which  the  Museum  is  world  famous 
can  only  be  mentioned  in  passing: 
such  as  dioramas  of  Stone  Age  man; 
seven  halls  covering  the  history  and 
cultures  of  the  Indians  of  the  Americas; 
the  world's  finest  hall  of  reptiles  and 
amphibians  made  possible  by 
techniques  of  mounting  developed  at 
Field  Museum;  the  lifelike  murals  of 
prehistoric  animals  painted  by  Charles 
R.  Knight;  the  hall  of  fossil  vertebrates 
featuring  the  72-toot  Brontosaurus 
skeleton;  the  hall  of  plant  life;  the  great 

display  of  Melanesian  Art;  the 
construction  of  the  coal  age  forest  of 
240  million  years  ago;  the  sculptures  of 
Malvina  Hoffman;  habitat  groups  of 
animals  in  naturalistic  settings  equal 
to  the  best  that  can  be  seen  anywhere; 
the  exhibit  of  Benin  bronzes  from 
Nigeria;  a  rare,  first  edition  copy  of 
John  James  Audubon's  The  Birds  of 
America;  the  great  collection  of 
Chinese  jade.  The  names  of  the  famous 
scientists  who  have  devoted  a  lifetime 
to  the  collections  and  research  efforts 
of  the  Museum,  the  trustees,  presidents 
and  directors,  and  private  individuals 
who  have  donated  time,  money,  and 
great  collections  to  the  Museum, 
would  fill  many  pages. 

Even  though  we  have  over  ten  million 
specimens  in  our  collections,  less  than 
one  percent  of  which  are  on  display,  we 
are  still  collecting,  filling  in  the  gaps. 
The  Botany  Department,  for  example, 
which  has  one  of  the  largest 
collections  in  North  America  and  the 
finest  in  the  world  on  tropical  America, 
estimates  it  will  take  another  25  years 
before  all  the  flora  of  Latin  America  are 
described  and  published  for  the  benefit 
of  generations  to  come.  The  demands 
on  the  Department  of  Education  are 

increasing  rapidly,  and  some  way  will 
have  to  be  found  to  enable  those 
demands  to  be  met.  Required  will  be 
additional  staff,  new  classrooms,  ramps 
for  school  buses,  additional  programs. 
This  fifty-year-old  building  must  be 
repaired  and  modernized  to 
accommodate  the  millions  of  visitors  to 
come  in  the  1970s  and  after.  We  must 
provide  them  with  adequate  cafeteria 
and  rest  room  facilities  and  escalators. 

Our  Department  of  Exhibition,  which 
has  been  responsible  for  the  beautiful 
display  and  graphic  techniques 
applauded  in  such  exhibitions  as  the 
Fiesta  Mexicana  in  1969  or  Color  in 
Nature  in  1971  or  the  continuing  75th 
Anniversary  Exhibit,  is  anxious  to 
modernize  many  of  the  halls  which 
have  not  been  touched  for  decades. 

Millar  called  Field  Museum  a  living 
museum.  "A  living  museum  is  never 
finished,"  he  said.  "It  serves  its 
community  and  the  natural  sciences  as 
no  other  social  institution  can  and  to 
continue  this  service  is  the  purpose 
and  function  of  Field  Museum  of 
Natural  History." 

Joyce  Zibro  is  editor  of  the  Field  Museum 


More  About  Field  Museum, 


Why  We  Need  $25,000,000 

Elizabeth  Munger 

The  objects  that  a  museum  collects, 
organizes,  studies,  explains,  exhibits 
are  of  course  largely  objects  from  the 
past.  Consequently  some  people  may 
thinl<  that  a  museum  sometimes 
harbors  the  attitudes  as  well  as  the 
drama  of  the  past.  We  do  not,  even 
though  sometimes  we  lool<  backward 
in  order  to  understand  our  present 
position  as  a  culmination  of  the  past. 

We  do  have  seventy-eight  years  of 
solid,  impressive  accomplishment 
behind  us  at  Field  Museum.  We  can 
try  to  measure  our  success  by  any  of 
a  number  of  countable  as  well  as 
uncountable  indexes;  lil<e  the  over 
sixty-five  million  people  who  have 
visited  the  museum  since  1921;  lil<e 
the  shelves  of  popular  as  well  as 
scientific  publications  that  we  have 
published  directly  and  that  our  scientists 
have  published  elsewhere;  lil<e  the 
millions  of  specimens  in  our  study 
collections  and  the  acres  of  exhibits  in 
our  public  areas;  like  the  much  smaller 

number  of  advanced  students  whose 
training  and  subsequent  contributions  to 
knowledge  Museum  scientists  as  well 
as  Museum  materials  contributed  to; 
listings  like  this  could  go  on  and  on. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  expectations 
of  our  founders  and  supporters 
through  the  years  have  been  far 
surpassed,  and  that  we  have 
developed  to  be  much  more  than  a 
"memorial  of  the  glories  of  the 
summer  of  '93,"  and  much  more  than 
an  "advantage  and  honor  to  the  city." 

But  reflection  on  our  past 
achievements  is  not  cause  for 
contentment  about  our  future.  In  fact, 
our  very  success  in  the  past  has 
created  our  major  problem  for  the 

A  successful  business  makes  money 
through  the  years,  but  a  successful 
museum  can  only  consume  it.  Our 
benefactors  in  the  past  understood  this 
fact  well  and  endowed  us  generously 


with  funds  that  then  seemed  ample  to 
yield  enough  income  for  all  time  to 
come.  This  public-spirited  generosity 
gave  rise  to  a  prevailing  folklore  that 
v/e  had  limitless  sources  of  wealth. 
But  two  kinds  of  change  have 
effectively  frustrated  projections  from 
an  earlier  age.  While  inflation  has  been 
seriously  reducing  the  buying  power  of 
our  endowment,  at  the  same  time  the 
expenses  to  be  supported  by  these 
funds  have  risen  far  beyond  the 
expectations  of  even  so  recent  a  time 
as  twenty  years  ago. 

For  instance,  our  total  operating 
expenses  for  1950  were  a  little  under 
$1,000,000  but  by  1970  were  over 
$3,500,000,  during  which  time  our  staff 
increased  by  only  8  percent.  Both 
inflation  and  increased  activities  are 
represented  in  those  figures,  but  one 
crude  measure  of  the  increased 
activities  would  be  the  increase  in 
attendance  at  Field  Museum  for  the 
corresponding  years — from  a  little  over 

1,000,000  in  1950  to  approximately 
1,700,000  in  1970. 

The  pie-chart  diagram  for  the 
corresponding  years  shows  several 
things  about  our  income  resources  to 
cover  those  expenses.  Our  endowment 
income  in  1970  took  care  of  only  about 
half  the  proportion  of  expense  that  it 
covered  in  1950;  some  federal 
research  funds  entered  the  picture;  the 
increased  attendance  plus  revised 
admission  fees  almost  doubled  the 
proportion  derived  from  visitors  and 
sales;  and  the  proportionate  support 
from  contributions  and  memberships 
increased  almost  ninefold.  In  other 
words,  by  1970  we  were  actively 
developing  additional  sources  of 

But  these  figures  do  not  show  that  at 
the  same  time  we  had  to  keep 
postponing  basic  maintenance,  repairs, 
and  needed  improvements  to  our 
building — the  same  kind  of  decision 

Contributions  and 

Chicago  Park  District 
tax  levy 

Visitor  admissions 
and  sales 

Endowment  income 



Federal  research  grants 



;  57,942 


$    360,370 




















that  many  a  family  has  to  make  when 
the  choice  is  between  college  for  the 
children  or  refurbishing  the  house. 

Another  line  of  attack  on  our 
increasingly  nagging  financial 
headache  was  begun  in  1969.  Field 
Museum's  director,  E.  Leiand  Webber, 
was  one  of  the  prime  movers  behind  a 
report  published  that  year  by  the 
American  Association  of  Museums 
called  America's  Museums:  The 
Belmont  Report.   This  document  is  in  a 
way  a  milestone  in  American  cultural 
history.   It  narrates  the  transformation  of 
the  country's  major  museums  into 
integral  and  necessary  parts  of  national 
and  international  education  and 
research,  while  they  have  yet 
maintained  their  local  traditions  and 
identity.  About  the  museum 
tradition  in  America  it  says: 
"Apparently  no  other  people  has 
engaged  in  this  activity  on  so  vast  a 
scale,  over  so  long  a  period  without  a 
let-up,  and  in  so  many  diverse  fields 
of  human  interest."  It  includes  a  long 
quotation  from  the  director  of  a  large 
museum  who  was  asked  to  say  what 
goes  on  during  a  typical  day.  We 
recognize  our  own  museum,  our  own 
museum  director,  in  the  statement.  We 
digress  long  enough  to  include  it  here 
because  it  offers  some  justification  for 
why  we,  like  a  family,  chose  to  allocate 
our  inadequate  financial  resources,  as 
we  did,  to  our  work  rather  than  to  our 

Anywhere  from  10  to  50  people  will  bring  in 
minerals  or  butterflies  or  other  objects  for 
identification,  for  which  they  are  referred  to 
the  appropriate  research  department.  A 
scientist  from  India  may  be  worl<ing  in  the 
Ichthyology  collections.  One  from  Brazil 
could  probably  be  found  there  too,  because 
we  have  the  world's  most  comprehensive 
collection  of  fishes  from  the  rivers  of  Brazil. 

A  doctor  may  send  the  stomach  contents  of 
a  patient  to  one  of  our  mycologists  to  see 
if  the  wild  mushroom  the  patient  ate  is  a 
particularly  dangerous  kind.  U.S. 
Government  people  working  on  plant 
quarantine  duties,  or  on  public  health,  will 
come  in  to  have  something  identified  or  to 
use  our  collections  and  library. 

A  staff  botanist  may  be  consulting  with  a 
scientist  from  a  pharmaceuticals 



manufacturer  to  determine  the  identity  of  a 
potentially  useful  drug  plant.  Next  door,  a 
curator  may  be  analyzing  organic  debris 
tfiat  fias  been  found  contaminating  food 
products.  In  the  taxidermy  laboratory, 
technicians  are  sculpting  a  model  of  a 
prehistoric  fish  for  a  new  exhibit. 

In  the  Division  of  Insects  a  curator  might  be 
studying  the  relationship  between  the 
peculiar  flies  that  parasitize  bats  and  the 
distribution  of  species  of  bats.  In  the 
Division  of  Mammals  a  curator  might  be 
working  on  the  association  between  coat 
development  of  mammals  and  climatic 
variation.  Almost  certainly  in  several 
divisions  museum  technicians  would  be 
assembling  material  from  the  collections  for 
shipment  to  universities  in  distant  corners 
of  our  country.  Such  material  as  likely  as 
not  would  be  used  by  graduate  students 
working  for  their  doctorates. 

Again,  this  could  have  been  the  day, 
recently,  when  the  health  authorities  of 
Bolivia  turned  to  us  for  aid.  They  were  faced 
with  an  epidemic.  The  suspected  carrier 
animal  was  rushed  to  us  for  identification. 
The  curator's  scientific  knowledge  enabled 
him  to  identify  the  carrier — a  small  rodent 
resembling  our  common  field  mouse.  The 
museum's  publication  describing  its  habits, 
habitat  and  life  cycle  pointed  the  way  to 
fast  control  of  the  epidemic. 

Then,  again  in  words  from  The  Belmont 
Report:  "mucli  more  than  meets  the 
eye  goes  on  in  any  large  museum  .  .  . 
Much  that  goes  on  rests  upon 
research.  It  is  the  invisible  function  of 
a  museum.  It  came  rather  late  in  the 
evolution  of  American  museums;  it  is 
rarely  appreciated  by  the  general 
public  and  is  usually  overshadowed  by 
more  glamorous  activities,  but  without 
it  the  museum's  function  of 
interpretation  would  wither  away  and  a 
museum's  collection  would  lose  value 
and  meaning." 

The  report  also  documents  how 
"American  museums  are  outstanding 
in  educational  programs  and  service  to 
our  educational  system,"  and  it  points 
out  that  "more  people  go  to  museums 
today  because  more  people  than  ever 
before  have  discovered  that  the  arts 
and  sciences  which  museums  exist  to 
serve  are  both  Important  and  exciting"; 
that  "the  average  American,  given  an 
opportunity,  apparently  has  a  desire  to 
improve  the  quality  of  his  life,  and 

Dr.  and  Mrs.  Karl  Weineke  of  Boardman,  Ohio  and  their  children,  from  left,  Karl,  Jackie,  and  Mary  Beth, 
were  among  the  1,700,000  people  to  visit  the  Museum  in  1970. 

museums  give  him  that  opportunity." 

The  immediate  purpose  of  Tlie  Belmont 
Report  was  to  demonstrate  the  need 
of  America's  museums  for  some 
federal  help  to  respond  to  the 
enormously  increased  public  needs 
and  demands  that  this  expanded  role 
in  our  educational  and  cultural  life 
implies — needs  that  greatly 
overstretched  their  traditional  sources 
of  support.  The  National  Science 

Foundation  had  long  supported  research 
functions  of  science  museums  and 
some  research  facilities,  but  few  funds 
had  been  available  for  nonresearch 
activities.  Art  and  history  museums  had 
had  no  significant  sources  of  support. 

One  current  and  encouraging  federal 
response  was  the  establishment  by  the 
National  Endowment  for  the  Arts  of  a 
pilot  Museum  Program  for  1971.  Through 
the  program  103  grants  totaling  a  little 



under  $1 ,000,000  were  made  to  various 
museums.   This  first  step  toward 
federal  sfiaring  of  responsibility  to 
support  museum  activities  was  mainly 
for  special  exhibition,  training, 
outreach,  and  acquisition  programs.  Of 
course  neither  these  activities  nor  the 
amounts  involved  were  designed  to 
reach  to  the  core  of  our  kind  of 
financial  problem.  The  program  was 
designed  to  help  museums  in  their 
expanding  and  innovative  efforts  to 
reach  even  wider  audiences  than  they 
do  now,  which  museums  wish  to  do, 
and  which  public  needs  and  wants 

Meanwhile,  however,  our  most  pressing 
underlying  financial  problems  remain. 
The  simple  fact  is  that  while  we  have 
been  engrossed  in  exciting,  expanding, 
and  necessary  work  whose  importance 
has  evolved  far  beyond  the 
expectations  of  our  founders,  our 
physical  facilities  are  becoming  more 
and  more  inadequate  and  have  even 
begun  to  sag  beneath  us  and  crumble 
around  us.  We  earnestly  hope  that 
federal  recognition  of  the  value  of  the 
services  we  perform  will  be  expressed 
by  increased  financial  support  in  the 
future,  but  federal  help  could  only  be 
part  of  the  answer  for  us.  Federal  funds 
must  be  very  broadly,  and  often  thinly, 
spread  around  the  whole  country,  and  we 
must  necessarily  be  considered  one 
among  many,  whatever  our 
international  prestige  may  be. 

In  early  1971  Field  Museum  and  five 
other  museums  in  the  Chicago  Park 
District  proposed  to  the  Park  District 
Commissioners  that  authority  be  sought 
from  the  Illinois  General  Assembly  for 
the  Park  District  to  share  in  the  cost  ol 
capital  improvements  to  the  museums 
on  a  fifty-fifty  basis.  The  Commissioners 
approved  the  proposal  and  legislation 
was  enacted  in  June  and  signed  by 
Governor  Ogilvie  on  August  4 
authorizing  the  Chicago  Park  District  to 
issue  $30,000,000  in  bonds  for  museum 
improvements.    Deep  appreciation  is 
due  the  Park  District  Commissioners 
and  their  president,  Daniel  Shannon, 

the  members  of  the  Illinois  legislature, 
and  Governor  Ogilvie  for  this  action 
which  will  mean  so  much  to  Chicago. 

Our  statement  of  capital  requirements 
submitted  to  the  Chicago  Park  District 
and  the  General  Assembly  projected  a 
need  of  $25,000,000.  Based  on  this 
projection,  we  may  anticipate 
approximately  $12,500,000  from  public 
funds  if  we  can  match  them  with 
another  $12,500,000  of  private  gifts. 

The  figure  of  $25,000,000  was 
developed  by  long  study  by  staff, 
professional  consultants,  and  trustees. 
The  action  of  the  General  Assembly 
and  the  Park  District  was  based  on  the 
proposal  submitted  after  our  board's 
comprehensive  study  of  the  basic 
capital  improvements  needed  to  place 
Field  Museum  in  a  position  to  move 
ahead  in  the  1970s. 

At  the  July  meeting  of  our  Board  of 
Trustees,  final  organization  of  the 
Museum's  Capital  Campaign  for 
$25,000,000  was  completed.  Official 
announcement  of  the  campaign  was 
made  September  20  by  President 
Remick  McDowell.  The  General 
Chairman  of  the  campaign  is  Nicholas 
Galitzine,  partner  of  Bacon,  Whipple 
Company  and  retired  vice  president  of 
Commonwealth  Edison  Company.  The 
campaign  Vice  Chairman  is  Marshall 
Field,  publisher  of  the  Chicago 
Sun-Times  and  Chicago  Daily  News. 
William  H.  Mitchell,  honorary  chairman 
of  Mitchell  Hutchins  &  Co.,  Inc.  will  be 
Co-Chairman  of  Individual  Gifts  with 
Marshall  Field.  Blaine  J.  Yarrington, 
president  of  American  Oil  Company, 
will  serve  as  Chairman  of  Corporate 
Gifts  and  Philanthropic  Foundations. 

The  component  parts  of  our 
$25,000,000  program  are  candidly 
presented  here  to  show  how  such  a 
large  sum  of  money  is  arrived  at.  They 
also  demonstrate  the  range  of  our 
deficiencies.  We  are  certainly  not  proud 
of  these  deficiencies,  but  we  are  proud 
that  until  now  we  have  been  able  to 
accomplish  so  much  in  spite  of  them. 
Some  of  these  deficiencies  are  all  too 

Preliminary  schematic  rendering  of  model 


teria  facilities  and  dining  area. 

apparent  to  even  casual  public 
inspection.  Others  are  experienced 
daily  by  our  staff  as  the  handicaps 
they  have  had  to  work  under  and 
around.  Some  of  the  most  serious  and 
costly  are  those  apparent  only  to 
technical  experts  who  have  examined 
our  building  with  great  care.  But  they 
are  all  urgent  needs  which  must  be 
taken  care  of  If  we  are  to  fulfill  our 
responsibilities  to  our  local  community 
and  to  the  widespread  scientific  and 
educational  communities  that  we  have 
become  a  part  of. 

— Electrical  system,  $1 ,775,000.  As  is 
generally  true  of  1920  vintage 
buildings,  the  electrical  system  is 
inadequate  and  obsolete  in  both 
design  and  capacity.  A  completely  new 
electrical  system  is  required  for  fire 
safety  and  to  upgrade  lighting  to 
modern  standards.  Sufficient  capacity 
for  anticipated  future  needs  and  for  air 
conditioning  the  building  is  included. 

— Security  against  fire,  smoke,  and 
burglary,  $610,000.  The  Museum's 
775,000  square  feet  of  floor  area  is 
without  sprinkler  protection,  except  for 
a  few  high-hazard  areas.  In  addition, 
modern  fire  and  burglary  detection  and 
alarm  systems  for  all  areas  of  the 
Museum  are  urgently  needed. 

— Plumbing,  drainage,  and  toilet 
systems,  $1 ,050,000.  Except  for  a  few 
sections  which  have  had  to  be 
replaced,  the  Museum's  sanitary  lines 
and  other  plumbing  are  all  more  than 
fifty  years  old  and  need  total 
replacement.  Additionally,  the  storm 
sewer  system  has  been  severely 
damaged  because  of  the  sinking 
ground  floor  and  will  have  to  be 
abandoned.  An  overhead  collection 
system  at  ground  floor  ceiling  height 
is  contemplated.  Four  critically  needed 
lounge  and  toilet  facilities  located 
strategically  throughout  the  building 
must  also  be  installed. 

—Exterior  windows,  $900,000.  Most  of 
the  fifty-year-old  exterior  window 
sashes  are  seriously  deteriorated  and  in 

many  cases  rotted  out.  More  than  1 ,000 
large  windows  need  to  be  replaced. 

—Heating  system,  $300,000.  The 
present  coal-fired  heating  system  must 
be  converted  to  a  combination  gas 
and  oil  operation  to  reduce  operating 
costs  and  minimize  air  pollution. 

— food  services,  $715,000.  Our  food 
preparation  and  serving  facilities  are 
primitive.  Modern  cafeteria  facilities  for 
about  600  persons  plus  a  small  dining 
area  for  luncheon  groups  are  planned. 
More  than  15,000  square  feet  of  space 
are  needed  to  provide  adequate 
kitchen,  storage,  serving,  and  seating. 

— Floor  sinking,  $800,000.  The  Museum 
building  sits  immovable  on  its  pilings 
but  the  ground  floor  floats  on 
uncompacted  fill,  having  been  poured 
about  seven  years  after  the  building 
was  completed  without  being  tied  into 
the  basic  structure.  In  places  the  floor 
has  settled  from  5V'2  inches  to  1 1  Vz 
inches,  causing  no  end  of  problems  to 
exhibits,  partitions,  sewers,  and 
plumbing.  Soil  engineers  predict  that 
90  percent  of  the  ground  floor  area 
will  settle  no  more  than  an  additional 
V2  inch  in  the  next  twenty-five  years. 
The  remaining  10  percent  needs  to  be 
tied  into  the  building  structure  because 
of  past  and  predicted  future  settling. 

— Exterior  stairs  and  entrances, 
$525,000.  The  North  and  South  exterior 
stairs  need  complete  rebuilding  to 
avoid  costly  maintenance  and  eventual 
collapse.  Heating  coils  for  snow 
removal  are  included.  The  current 
building  code  requires  that  the 
Museum's  exit  capacity  be  four  times 
greater.  Engineers  propose  cutting  new 
exit  door  openings  for  each  of  the 
eight  stairways  and  widening  the 
present  North  and  South  exits. 

— Visitor  entrance  facilities  and 
services,  $550,000.  Information  and 
admission  areas  and  checking  and 
bookshop  facilities  need  substantial 
expansion  and  relocation  to  provide 
better  public  services  and  to  increase 
the  income  they  produce. 



Group  attendance  of  school  children  has  increased  50  percent  since  1965  to  approximately  400.000  annually. 

— Centralized  administrative  offices, 
$550,000.  The  Museum's  offices  are 
generally  inadequate  and  in  many 
cases  isolated.  A  centralized  office  is 
necessary  to  improve  operations, 
communications,  and  supervision. 

—Educational  facilities,  $940,000.  Use 
of  the  Museum  by  school  and  other 
groups  continues  to  rise.  Group 
attendance  of  school  children  has 
increased  50  percent  since  1965  to 
approximately  400,000  annually. 
Moreover,  increasing  recognition  of  the 
Museum  as  an  important  national 
resource  has  been  accompanied  by 
a  marl<ed  increase  in  the  use  of  its 
limited  classroom  and  laboratory 
facilities  by  teachers  and  other  groups 
pursuing  studies  in  ecology  and 
environment.  Extensive  remodeling  of 
the  ground  floor  West  area  is  required 
to  provide  proper  orientation,  checking, 
and  toilet  facilities  for  educational 
programs.  A  bus  ramp,  canopy,  and 
paving  changes  for  direct  access  by 
school  groups  through  our  West 

Theatre  entrance  to  a  proposed 
educational  facility  are  also  necessary. 

—Scientific  areas,  $3,750,000.  With  a 
grant  from  the  National  Science 
Foundation  in  1964,  the  Museum  was 
able  to  provide  expanded  space  and 
facilities  for  the  collections  and 
personnel  of  the  Department  of 
Geology.  A  filled-in  lightw^ell  added 
250,000  cubic  feet  of  space,  all  in 
close  proximity  to  the  department's 
curators.  Other  grants  and  restricted 
funds  made  it  possible  to  construct 
storage  facilities  for  the  Invertebrate 
Division  in  1971.  Now  the  space  needs 
for  collections  and  personnel  of  the 
Anthropology,  Botany,  and  Zoology 
Departments  are  critical.  The  herbarium 
in  the  Department  of  Botany  is  virtually 
bursting  at  the  seams.  A  filled-in 
lightwell  for  each  of  the  three 
departments  should  tal<e  care  of  their 
foreseeable  growth  needs. 

— Escalators  and  elevators,  $440,000. 
Installation  of  escalators  will  be  a  great 

convenience  to  the  public  and  will  also 
help  immeasurably  in  reducing  first 
floor  and  ground  floor  congestion. 
Escalators  will  substantially  increase 
the  number  of  second  floor  visitors 
since  the  public  must  at  present  climb 
seventy-three  steps  from  the  ground  to 
the  second  floor.  Approximately 
$50,000  of  the  total  is  needed  to 
replace  the  fifty-year-old  elevator 
which  serves  our  scientific  staff  located 
on  the  third  and  fourth  floors. 

— Sound-deadening,  $275,000. 
Acoustical  treatment  was  relatively 
unknown  or  ignored  at  the  time  the 
Museum  was  erected.  The  noise  level 
in  certain  popular  exhibit  areas  is 
decidedly  uncomfortable  and  hampers 
the  educational  program  severely.  The 
most  popular  and  most  noisy  halls 
must  be  sound-treated. 

—Exterior  walls,  $750,000.  The  soft 
Georgia  marble  exterior  of  the  Museum 
has  been  and  continues  to  be 
seriously  eroded  by  weather  and  air 
pollution.  Recently  developed 
technology  indicates  that  a  permanent 
nontarnishing  protective  coating  can  be 
applied  to  arrest  further  deterioration. 
The  Museum  is  currently  conducting 
experiments  with  the  newly  developed 

—Roof  and  sky  ligfits,  $200,000. 
Extensive  re-roofing  and  removal  of 
certain  skylights  will  be  required  as  a 
part  of  the  Museum's  rehabilitation 
and  remodeling  program. 

— Ventilation  and  air  conditioning, 
$3,740,000.  The  Museum's  ventilation 
system  reflects  the  burden  of  excessive 
wear  and  tear;  it  is  more  than  twice 
the  normal  depreciation  age  of  such 
equipment.  Much  of  the  system, 
obsolete  at  best,  reflects  a  general 
condition  of  rusted-out  coils  and  ducts, 
making  its  operation  virtually 
impossible.  To  provide  proper 
temperature,  ventilation,  filtering,  and 
humidity  for  the  Museum's  priceless 
collections,  books,  and  exhibits  (as 
well  as  for  employees  and  visitors),  a 
modern  air  treatment  system  is  sorely 


Field  Museum's  Capital  Campaign  leadership  discuss  the  Museum's   $25,000,000  development  program  with  Daniel  J.  Shannon,  president,  Board  ol  Commissioners, 
Chicago  Park  District.    From  left,  Blaine   J.  'Harrington,  president,  American  Oil  Company  and  chairman  of  corporate  gilts;  William  H.  Mitchell,  honorary  chairman  of 
Mitchell  Hutchlns  &  Company,  Inc.  and  co-chairman  of  individual  gifts:  Marshall  Field,  put>lisher  of  the  Chicago  Sun-Times  and  Chicago  Dally  News  and  vice  chairman 
of  the  capital  fund  drive  and  co-chairman  of  individual  gifts:  Nicholas  Galltzine,  partner  In  Bacon,  Whipple  and  Company  and  general  chairman  of  the  campaign:  and 
Daniel  J.  Shannon.    In  announcing  the  Capital  Campaign,  Chairman  Nicholas  Galitzine  reported  $3,190,000  in  advance  gifts,  primarily  from  some  of  the  Field 
Museum  trustees. 

needed.  The  Museum  contemplates  a 
unified  air  conditioning  system  capable 
of  fiandling  a  total  cooling  load  of 
approximately  3,000  tons. 

— James  Simpson  Theatre,  $1,185,000. 
The  1,125  seat  theatre  and  supporting 
toilet  and  checking  facilities  are  all 
original  construction.  IVluch  broader 
use  of  this  facility  by  science-oriented 
and  other  groups  would  be  obtained 
if  a  modern  functional  facility  could  be 
provided.  A  completely  renovated 
1,000  seat  threatre  with  new  seating, 
lighting,  and  acoustical  treatment 
together  with  modern  lounge,  toilet, 
and  checking  facilities  is  contemplated. 

—Lecture  Hall,  $125,000.  The  Lecture 
Hall  can  be  converted  Into  an  excellent 
modern  facility  of  approximately  its 
present  capacity  of  241  persons.  The 
Museum  has  a  great  deal  of  use  for  a 
hall  of  medium  capacity. 

— Architectural  alterations  and 
equipment  for  exhibits,  $5,000,000.  To 
maintain  and  enhance  the  Museum's 
position  as  one  of  the  world's  largest 
natural  history  museums,  substantial 
modernization  programs  should  be 
Initiated  to  Incorporate  recent  marked 
advances  to  strengthen  materially  the 

quality  of  the  public  exhibits.  This 
would  Involve  substantial  alterations  of 
structure  and  integral  elements  of 

—Terrace  walls,  $800,000.  Due  to 
settling  of  the  land  fill,  substantial 
portions  of  the  terrace  walls  need 
resetting  and  replacement. 

—Exterior  lighting,  $95,000.  To 
enhance  the  aesthetic  value  of  the 
classical  structure  of  the  Museum,  the 
illumination  level  of  the  North  and 
South  porticos  should  be  Increased 
and  the  exterior  lighting  of  the  entire 
building  upgraded. 

—Tuckpointing,  $150,000.  Although  the 
building  has  been  tuckpolnted 
Intermittently  over  the  years  and  as 
recently  as  1970  $39,000  was 
expended,  we  urgently  need  to 
complete  this  work. 

Here  then  is  quite  a  different  aspect  of 
Field  Museum's  history.  It's  the 
practical  aspect  that  bears  most 
directly  on  what  our  future  can  be.  If 
these  critical  financial  needs  are  not 
met  we  won't  Immediately  close  our 
doors.  Deterioration  has  much  more 
subtle  consequences  than  that,  but 
they  accelerate  as  time  goes  on. 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  foregoing  that 
Field  Museum's  plans  are  in  the  truest 
sense  conservation — aimed  at 
protecting  the  treasures  In  our  care 
and  at  creating  an  institution  that  can 
serve  its  constituency  through  the  1970s 
and  into  the  next  decade,  it  Is  not  a 
program  of  major  expansion  and  it  is 
not  a  frozen  blueprint  for  several 
decades.  We  feel  that  one  of  the  prime 
responsibilities  of  any  service  institution 
in  this  period  of  rapid  change  Is  to 
preserve  flexibility.   This  dictates  a 
constant  assessment  of  institutional 
function  based  on  contemporary 
community  and  national  needs.  The 
program  we  are  embarking  on  is  our 
pledge  to  the  1970s.  Nothing  less  will 
fulfill  our  responsibility  to  those  who 
have  built  a  great  museum  in  the  past 
nor  to  those  we  seek  to  serve  in  the 

Elizabeth  Munger  is  associate  editor  of  the 

Field  Museum  Bulletin. 





There  are  several  things  that  almost 
everyone  knows  about  earthworms: 

1.  They  are  slippery  slimy  creatures. 

2.  They  make  admirable  fish-bait  and 
can  be  collected  at  night  after  the 
ground  has  been  wet. 

3.  They  lack  eyes  but  respond  to  light. 

4.  They  live  in  the  soil,  burrowing  in  it 
by  eating  their  way  along. 

5.  They  are  hermaphroditic,  combining 
both  male  and  female  parts  in  the 
same  animal. 

Some  of  the  above  statements  are  true, 
but  some  are  misleading  or  omit  even 
more  interesting  features  of  the 
animals.  Let's  examine  them. 

1.  Under  normal  circumstances  the 
outer  surface  of  an  earthworm  is  cool, 
moist,  and  covered  with  a  thin  coat  of 
mucus.  It  is  cool  because  it  is  moist; 
that  is,  evaporation  of  the  moisture 
helps  to  keep  the  animal's  temperature 
low.  Like  many  "cold-blooded" 
animals,  earthworms  can  be  injured  by 
even  brief  exposure  to  temperatures  as 
high  as  those  most  mammals  find 
comfortable.  The  mucus  coat  is 
responsible,  in  part,  for  the  moisture, 
for  it  holds  water,  swelling  or 
contracting  as  the  amount  of  water 
increases  or  diminishes.  As  water  is 
lost,  the  mucus  becomes  sticky  and 
then  stiff,  and  finally  shrinks  to  a  small 
fraction  of  its  former  volume. 

Because  the  mucus  tends  to  hold  water 
next  to  the  body  surface,  it  also  plays 
an  important  part  in  the  respiratory 
exchange  of  atmospheric  gases 
(oxygen,  carbon  dioxide,  and  even 
ammonia)  through  the  worm's  body 
surface.  If  the  body  surface  becomes 
dry,  passage  of  these  gaseous 
materials  is  greatly  slowed.  The 
chemical  composition  of  the  mucus 
itself  is  not  well  understood.  It 
apparently  contains  proteins  and  some 
kind  of  carbohydrate  material,  the 
combination  being  secreted  by  certain 
cells  of  the  epidermis,  the  outermost 
single  layer  of  living  cells  beneath  the 
nonliving  cuticle.  The  mucus  may  be 

produced  in  large  amounts  and  seems 
to  account  for  as  much  as  50  percent 
of  the  nitrogen  excreted  from  the  body 
each  day.  (That  is,  the  proteins  of  the 
mucus,  lost  to  the  body  as  it  is  worn 
away,  contain  nitrogen  that  is  thereby 
given  off.) 

The  mucus  has  several  other  important 
functions  for  the  worm.  It  minimizes 
friction  damage  as  the  animal  pushes 
its  way  through  the  soil.  Its  lubricating 
effect  also  undoubtedly  aids  in  the 
emergency  when  a  robin  catches  part 
of  a  worm  in  its  beak.  Also,  as  the 
mucus  wears  away  and  accumulates 
along  the  walls  of  burrows,  it  holds 
soil  particles  in  place  to  keep  the  walls 
from  collapsing.  This  kind  of 
"engineering"  would  not  work  in  sandy 
soils,  and,  in  fact,  earthworms  are 
rarely  found  in  soils  that  are  very 
sandy.  Of  course,  there  is  also  the  fact 
that  sandy  soils  have  poorer 
water-holding  capacity  than  worms 

A  special  thickened  layer  of  gland 
cells,  called  the  clitellum,  produces  a 
heavy  dense  mucus  that  plays  a  vital 
role  in  sexual  reproduction  in  these 
organisms  which  are  imperfectly 
adjusted  to  a  terrestrial  existence.  The 
mucus  partially  covers  the  two  worms 
during  mating,  minimizing  damage  to 
the  sperms  being  transferred  to  the 

partner.  The  egg  cocoon  produced  by 
each  worm  a  few  hours  or  days  after 
mating  is  composed  of  a  similar  dense 

As  for  mucus  in  general,  apart  from 
worms,  virtually  all  groups  of  the 
animal  kingdom,  excepting  only  the 
Arthropoda,  produce  mucus  on  at  least 
some  parts  of  the  outer  surface  and 
along  such  inner  passages  as  the 
digestive  tract  and  certain  respiratory 
and  reproductive  passages. 

2.  Probably  it's  their  easy  availability 
and  large  size  that  have  made 
earthworms  the  favorite  bait  among 
anglers,  at  least  those  who  fish  in 
inland  waters.  Worms  do  not  normally 
drown  in  cool  water,  intact  earthworms 
being  known  to  live  for  more  than  a 
year  while  totally  submerged,  but  they 
obligingly  come  to  the  soil  surface 
during  rains,  especially  when  the 
weather  is  warm.  As  the  rain  tends  to 
saturate  the  ground  and  fill  all  air 
pockets,  the  worms  move  up.  They  are 
responding  partly  to  the  decreased 
oxygen  supply  and  increased  carbon 
dioxide  supply  caused  by  many  soil 
microorganisms  enormously  increasing 
their  metabolic  activity  when  water 
becomes  abundant  in  the  soil.  The  life 
activities  of  these  bacteria,  fungi, 
protozoans,  algae,  rotifers,  etc.  rapidly 
use  up  the  oxygen  not  already 
displaced  by  the  water  and  in  the 
process  release  large  amounts  of 
carbon  dioxide.  Further,  the  liquid 
nature  of  the  soil  at  this  time  greatly 
slows  the  movement  of  all  gas 
particles  compared  with  the  action  of 
diffusion  when  air  permeates  the  soil. 

There  is  another  interesting  aspect  of 
this  business  of  fishbait,  and  it  has  to 
do  with  the  geography  of  earthworms. 
We  do  not  understand  why,  but  it 
appears  that  the  earthworms  of 
northern  Europe  have  been  amazingly 
able  to  invade  other  continents, 
establish  colonies,  and  drive  the  native 
species  out  of  the  ground,  as  it  were. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  the  European 
worms  have  been  carried  about  by 
man  in  connection  with  one  or  another 



of  his  enterprises.  Many  were 
transported  in  the  soil  accompanying 
cultivated  plants;  in  fact,  comnnercial 
greenhouses  have  unwittingly  been 
staging  areas  aiding  the  invasion  of 
temperate  areas.  And  enormous 
numbers  of  soil-inhabiting  organisms 
have  been  carried  in  the  soil  used  as 
ballast  in  ships  that  carried  lumber 
from  the  forests  of  eastern  United 
States  and  Canada  to  Northern  Europe. 
Since  the  ships  could  not  safely  come 
back  empty,  their  holds  were  ballasted 
with  bags  of  soil  and  rock.  The  dirt 
was  emptied  into  New  England 
harbors  or  the  St.  Lawrence  River,  and 
later  on  shore  (under  direction  of 
harbormasters  charged  with  the 
responsibility  for  maintaining  navigable 
conditions  for  shipping).  In  this  way 
hundreds  of  species  of  soil  insects, 
other  arthropods,  annelid  worms,  and 
various  micro-organisms  crossed  from 
the  Old  to  the  New  World  as  well  as 
to  other  continents. 

In  most  cities  of  eastern  North 
America;  in  such  South  American 
cities  as  Sao  Paulo,  Rio  de  Janeiro, 
Buenos  Aires,  Santiago;  in  most  large 
cities  of  Australia  and  New  Zealand, 
the  only  species  of  earthworms  to  be 
found  are  species  introduced  from 
Northern  Europe!  In  the  Chicago  area 
even  the  forest  preserves  in  the  farther 
reaches  of  Cook  County  contain  these 
introduced  species.  It  may  be 
observed  that  city  parks  and  domestic 
gardens  are  areas  that  in  one  way  or 
another  are  maintained  in  an  unnatural 
condition — unnatural,  that  is,  compared 
with  original  forest  or  prairie  soil.  It  is 
probable  that  this  maintained  or 
managed  state  somehow  gives  an 
advantage  to  the  foreign  earthworms. 
In  North  America  north  of  f\/lexico,  of  a 
total  of  sixty  species  of  earthworms 
recorded  in  1966,  37  (61  percent) 
were  introduced  from  Europe. 
Interestingly,  the  only  species  of 
earthworms  now  found  in  those 
portions  of  Europe  from  which  the 
glaciers  retreated  12,000-15,000  years 
ago  are  the  same  species  that  have 
been  able  to  migrate  around  the  world. 

Typical  mating  position  of  L.  lerrestrls.  As  the  two  worms  lock  tightly  together  by  means  of  modified  bristles 
with  barbed  hooks  that  each  one  thrusts  Into  Its  partner's  body,  the  glandular  ciltellum  of  each  produces 
copious  mucus  which  encloses  the  partners.  This  photo  and  photo  on  page  16  courtesy  of  COM:  General 
Biological,  Inc. 

The  favorite  "angle"  worm  is 
Lumbricus  terrestris,  the  big  night 
crawler,  or  "dew-worm."  This  species, 
perhaps  the  most  studied  member  of 
the  phylum  Annelida,  is  a  typical 
member  of  the  European  peregrine 
(i.e.,  traveler)  group  of  species.  It  has 
been  brought  by  fishermen  to  parts  of 
the  world  not  only  where  it  was 
previously  absent  but  where  no 
earthworms  previously  existed.  For 
better  or  worse,  this  species  of  angle 
worm  is  now  available  "naturally"  in 
the  highest  remote  areas  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  in  most  of  the  National 
Parks,  and  on  every  continent.  Its  large 
size  and  rapid  rate  of  reproduction 
have  undoubtedly  aided  in  its  dispersal. 

Although  some  individual  worms  may 
be  out  and  active  on  cloudy  days, 
various  factors  make  earthworms 
active  primarily  at  night.  They  are  less 
vulnerable  to  such  predators  as  robins 
and  woodcocks  (few  other  birds  feed 
regularly  on  earthworms).  The  simple 
exchange  of  respiratory  gases  through 
a  worm's  body  surface  will  be  more 
likely  to  meet  its  internal  requirements 

during  the  lowered  temperature  and 
higher  relative  humidity  of  the  dark 
hours.  And  also,  loss  of  water  from  its 
body  surface  will  be  minimized.  The 
adult  Lumbricus  loses  an  estimated 
60  percent  of  its  total  weight  as  water 
each  day  under  average  circumstances. 
In  dry  periods  earthworms  retreat  to 
lower  levels  in  the  soil,  in  some  cases 
to  ten  feet  below  the  surface.  They 
may  finally  retreat  to  a  small  chamber 
and  become  twisted  into  a  close  knot 
surrounded  by  a  film  of  drying  mucus. 
This  condition  may  persist  for  several 
weeks  until  increased  moisture 
becomes  available.  In  certain  species 
a  true  estivation,  or  diapause,  sets  in. 
Once  asleep,  the  animals  cannot  be 
roused  by  any  change  in  temperature 
or  moisture  conditions.  The  dormant 
state  lasts  about  two  months  and  has 
been  supposed  to  be  controlled  by  a 
hormonal  mechanism. 

3.  Although  other  classes  (Polychaeta 
and  Hirudinea)  of  the  phylum  Annelida 
possess  eyes,  often  of  considerable 
complexity,  earthworms  do  not. 
However,  all  species  studied  do  have 

■fiULLETIN     OCTOBER  1971 


Giant  earthworm  from  Ecuador,  Small  worm,  from  Pennsylvania  soil, 
Ralph  Buchsbaum. 

is  eight  inches  long.  Photo  by  Dr. 

single  cells  scattered  In  the  dorsal 
epidermis,  particularly  near  the  anterior 
end,  which  are  like  minute  eyes. 
Groups  of  similar  cells  are  found  in 
the  nerve  cord  as  well  as  certain 
anterior  nerves.  An  internal  lens-like 
body  in  each  cell  appears  to 
concentrate  light  rays  upon  a  nerve 
fiber.  Blue  light  produces  the  maximum 
response  from  worms,  while  red  light 
appears  hardly  to  be  detected,  except 
as  it  may  have  a  warming  effect.  A 
worm's  response  to  strong  light  is  to 
suddenly  withdraw  into  its  burrow.  On 
the  other  hand,  earthworms  are 
positively  attracted  to  weak  intensities 
of  light.  Thus,  the  worms  are  kept  in 
their  burrows  by  their  innate  responses 
to  daylight,  when,  in  fact,  it  would  be 
dangerous  for  them  to  be  active. 
Correspondingly,  they  are  attracted  out 
at  night  when  conditions  are  less 
inimical  to  their  survival. 

But  their  light-sensitive  mechanisms 
sometimes  betray  them.  Worms  do  not 
appear  to  be  able  to  detect  ultraviolet 
light  in  the  usual  sense,  but  they  are 

sensitive  to  it,  as  is  all  other 
protoplasm.  When  heavy  rains  saturate 
the  ground  and  earthworms  come  to 
the  surface  during  the  daytime,  even 
if  the  sun  is  not  shining  brightly  they 
are  exposed  to  much  more  ultraviolet 
light  than  at  night.  It  is  a  common 
experience  after  a  heavy  daytime  rain 
to  find  many  dead  and  dying  worms 
on  the  ground.  They  came  up  in  a 
time  of  stress  for  a  "breath  of  fresh 
air"  and  were  fatally  injured  by  the 
ultraviolet  light  from  the  sun.  Sixty 
seconds  of  full  sunlight  is  enough  to 
fatally  injure  an  earthworm. 

4.  In  the  loose  upper  layers  of  soil, 
particularly  near  bodies  of  water, 
earthworms  are  able  to  push  their  way 
between  soil  particles  by  means  of 
coordinated  contractions  of  the  circular 
and  longitudinal  muscles  of  the  body 
wall.  The  fluid  contained  in  their 
coelomic  body  cavities  hydraulically 
extends  the  several  anterior  body 
segments,  which  become  progressively 
more  slender  toward  the  front  tip. 
However,  in  more  densely  packed  soil 

at  greater  depths,  or  in  heavy  clay  or 
earth  thick  with  plant  roots,  the 
earthworm's  only  means  of  burrowing 
is  to  eat  its  way  along.  Secretions 
from  glands  of  the  front  end  of  the 
digestive  tract  soften  the  earth  and 
make  swallowing  easier. 

Killing  two  birds  with  one  stone,  as  it 
were,  the  normal  collection  of  digestive 
enzymes  is  secreted  into  this  soil  that 
more  or  less  fills  the  digestive  cavity. 
Whatever  was  swallowed  that  can  be 
digested  by  these  enzymes  is 
fragmented  chemically  and  absorbed, 
mostly  from  the  intestine,  which  takes 
up  three-fourths  or  more  of  the 
posterior  part  of  the  body.  It  is  evident, 
however,  that  in  many  species  (such 
as  L  terrestris)  the  amount  of  food  a 
worm  takes  in  during  burrowing  activity 
is  only  a  small  fraction  of  what  it 
consumes  during  nightly  foraging  at 
the  surface,  while  keeping  its  posterior 
end  in  the  burrow.  Study  of  the 
microscopic  contents  of  the  digestive 
tract  of  earthworms  discloses  various 
soil  algae,  fungi,  rotifers,  smaller 
earthworms,  nematodes,  many  Insect 
larvae,  protozoans,  and  so  on. 

When  an  earthworm  is  ready  to 
eliminate  its  load  of  diggings,  it  backs 
up  through  an  existing  tunnel  to  the 
surface  of  the  ground  or  into  an 
abandoned  burrow  and  empties 
perhaps  as  much  as  one-third  the 
intestine  of  its  semifluid  contents. 
These  "castings"  contain  particles  of 
soil  whose  average  size  is  less  than 
uningested  soil  and  whose  bacterial 
count  is  increased  by  about  one-third. 
There  is  some  evidence  that  such 
natural  manure  may  be  beneficial  to 
plant  growth  even  if  the  earthworms 
themselves  are  absent,  although  the 
active  presence  of  earthworms  is  even 
more  helpful.  In  some  cases  the  crops 
grown  in  experimental  greenhouse 
plots  were  200  percent  greater  when 
earthworms  were  present  than  when 
they  were  excluded.  Their  numerous 
channels  (as  many  as  280  were 
counted  in  a  square  meter  of  soil  at  a 
depth  of  fourteen  inches)  aids  aeration 



of  the  soil,  penetration  of  rain  water, 
growth  of  aerobic  bacteria  and  other 
organisms,  decay  of  organic  material, 
and  the  movement  of  many  other  small 
animals.  Some  earthworm  burrows 
found  at  depths  of  several  feet  in  clay 
soils  have  undoubtedly  existed  for 
many  years. 

Earthworms  can  bring  an  amazing 
amount  of  soil  to  the  surface  from 
lower  layers.  (Charles  Darwin 
published  the  first  serious  study  of  this 
matter  in  his  book  The  Formation  ot 
Vegetable  Mould,  by  the  Action  ot 
Worms,  in  1881.  Up  to  700  lumbricid 
worms  have  been  reported  under  the 
surface  of  one  square  meter  of 
meadow  soil.  It  has  been  calculated 
that  up  to  17.5  lbs.  of  soil  per  year  are 
carried  to  the  surface  of  every  square 
meter  in  a  large  field  from  depths  as 
much  as  several  feet.  Objects  at  the 
surface  have  been  estimated  to  sink 
at  rates  of  3-5  mm.  per  year.  Buildings 
as  big  as  Roman  dwellings  in  Britain 
and  Indian  houses  in  Central  America 
have  disappeared  into  the  earth  largely 
due  to  the  action  of  earthworms. 

Different  species  of  earthworms  live  at 
different  depths  in  the  soil,  some  never 
reaching  the  surface.  Such 
"preferences"  may  be  related  to 
moisture  or  soil  type,  although  smaller 
species  are  usually  confined  to  the 
upper  few  inches  because  their 
particular  food  is  found  only  there. 

Earthworms  cultivate  their  soil 
environment  in  another  way  too.  Every 
gardener  has  noted  tufts  of  twisted 
leaves  and  twigs,  sometimes  a  dozen 
or  more,  protruding  from  the  ground, 
particularly  on  mornings  after  cool 
nights.  During  the  night  the  worms' 
searching  mouths  have  pulled  these 
bits  of  organic  material  that  is  their 
major  source  of  food  into  their  burrows 
to  eat.  In  the  process  numerous  seeds 
are  effectively  planted  and  may  take 
root.  Narrow  leaves,  such  as  willow  or 
grass,  may  be  pulled  well  into  the 
burrow,  making  a  lining  to  a  depth  of 
several  inches. 

Earthworm  castings  can  build  up  to  considerable 
heights  at  the  soil  surface. 

5.  Although  all  earthworms  are 
hermaphroditic,  the  usual  method  of 
reproduction  is  by  cross-insemination. 
Each  of  the  partners  during  the  mating 
process  receives  several  thousand 
spermatozoa  from  the  other.  After 
mating,  which  commonly  takes  a  few 
hours,  the  animals  separate  and  return 
to  their  respective  burrows.  A  few 
cocoons  (7  mm.  x  5  mm.  in  L  terrestris) 
are  formed  later  and  are  deposited  in 
the  soil  or  among  leaf  debris,  where  in 
warm,  moist  climates  they  hatch  in  a 
few  weeks.  The  young  L.  terrestris 
worm  is  about  10  mm.  long.  In  this 
species  usually  only  one  worm 
emerges  from  each  cocoon,  but  mating 
is  more  or  less  continuous  in  spring 
and  fall,  cocoons  being  deposited 
every  three  or  four  days. 

A  very  few  cases  of  self-impregnation 
have  been  reported  in  earthworms. 
That  is,  worms  isolated  from  all  others 
from  the  time  of  hatching  or  before 
have  been  found  to  produce  fertilized 
eggs.  There  is  a  possibility  that  viable 
sperms  from  another  worm  persisted 
in  the  environment  in  any  of  a  number 
of  ways,  so  perhaps  the  conclusion 
that  self-impregnation  occurred  is  not 
strictly  warranted  from  this  evidence. 
But  it  is  at  least  plausible. 

Parthenogenesis  is  another  modification 
of  the  usual  cross-fertilizing  method — 
meaning  that  offspring  develop  from 
the  unfertilized  eggs  of  a  single  parent. 
Parthenogenesis  has  been  increasingly 
reported  in  earthworms  during  the  last 
twenty  years  and  may  be  more 
common  than  is  yet  realized.  The 
details  vary  somewhat,  but  the  general 
situation  is  that  normal  sperm  are 
simply  not  produced,  yet  eggs  are  laid 
which  develop  into  embryos  and  finally 
young  worms.  Chromosome  analysis 
demonstrates  that  parthenogenesis  has 
occurred  and  distinguishes  this  kind  of 
reproduction  from  self-impregnation. 

At  least  some  of  these  cases  suggest 
evolutionary  changes  in  process — that 
is,  some  of  these  species  are 
becoming  parthenogenetic  at  the 
present  time. 

There  are  other  peculiar  aspects  of 
earthworms.  For  example,  to  continue 
the  list  we  started  with: 

6.  They  possess  five  pairs  of  hearts. 

7.  They  lack  hard  skeletal  structures, 
their  cuticle  being  thin  and 

8.  They  can  regenerate  missing  parts. 

9.  Their  size  ranges  from  %  inch  long 
to  8  feet,  though  the  largest  American 
species  (in  the  South)  is  only  S'/a 

10.  They  perform  useful  functions  in 
compost  piles  and  hence  in  organic 


But  there  is  a  danger  in  telling  more 
about  earthworms  than  a  lot  of  people 
want  to  know  in  one  sitting.  So  the 
rest  can  wait  for  another  time. 

Harry  G.  Nelson  is  associate,  Division  ot 
Insects,  Field  Museum,  and  protessor  and 
chairman.  Department  of  Biology,  Roosevelt 



migrations     melvin  a.  traylor 

This  is  the  time  of  year  when  even  the 
most  case-hardened  city  dweller 
becomes  aware  that  something  is 
moving  besides  the  cars  on  the 
expressways.  In  late  August  he  realized 
without  thinking  of  it  that  there  were 
great  flocks  of  martins  roosting  nights 
on  the  Bahai  Temple  and  Aquarium;  in 
September  the  calls  of  high-flying 
nighthawks  drew  his  attention  skyward, 
but  in  October  the  insistant  honking  of 
the  geese  as  their  lines  and  "V's"  move 
southward  over  the  city  itself  makes 
him  realize  that  summer  is  indeed 
ended  and  the  birds  are  on  their 
southward  migration.  With  his 
awareness  thus  heightened,  he 
recognizes  from  the  gentle  rain  of 
warblers  and  thrushes  around  "Big 
John"  and  the  other  tall  buildings  that 
this  movement  involves  most  birds, 
both  big  and  small. 

Although  the  migrations  of  larger  birds, 
particularly  the  enormous  flights  of 
waterfowl,  were  understood  by  the 
ancients,  the  ability  of  sparrow  or 
warbler-sized  birds  to  travel  thousands 
of  miles  a  year  was  not  accepted  until 
the  last  century.  They  were  generally 
believed  to  hibernate  in  hollow  trees  or 
in  the  mud  of  ponds,  or  else  to 
hitchhike  their  way  south  on  the  backs 
of  eagles  or  hawks.  It  is  only  through 
collecting  in  tropical  countries  during 
the  northern  winter,  and  by  tracing  the 
movements  of  individual  birds  through 
the  use  of  numbered  bands,  that  an 
accurate  knowledge  of  the  migration  of 
each  species  has  been  determined. 

The  more  one  learns  about  migration, 
the  more  one  is  impressed  by  the 
amazing  diversity  of  migratory  patterns, 
and  by  the  enormous  distances  that 
some  birds  travel.  Some  species,  such 
as  our  familiar  Song  Sparrow  and  Blue 
Jay,  move  only  as  far  as  the  severe 
weather  forces  them,  and  hardy 
individuals  may  even  remain  here 
during  the  winter.  At  the  other  extreme, 
the  Barn  Swallows  and  Bobolinks  will 
leave  here  in  late  August,  when  the 
weather  is  still  fine  and  food  abundant, 
and  travel  6000  miles  to  Argentina, 

where  they  are  among  the  more 
conspicuous  birds  of  the  southern 
summer.  We  like  to  think  of  these  last 
two  as  our  typical  native  birds,  but  the 
four  months  they  spend  with  us  are  no 
more  than  the  time  that  they  spend  in 
South  America.  As  one  goes  further 
north,  this  discrepancy  between  time 
spent  on  breeding  and  wintering 
grounds  becomes  even  greater.  The 
shorebirds  that  breed  on  the  arctic 
tundra  have  barely  two  months  in  which 
to  rear  their  young,  and  individuals 
that  we  saw  migrating  north  in  May 
will  be  back  with  us  on  their 
southbound  voyage  in  late  July. 

The  routes  followed  by  these  long- 
distance migrants  are  not  a  simple 
south  in  autumn  and  north  in  spring. 
A  glance  at  the  map  will  show  that  the 
whole  of  South  America  lies  east  of 
New  York,  and  our  birds  that  winter 
there  must  make  a  southeasterly  flight. 
Some  may  accomplish  this  by  following 
the  arc  of  Central  America,  but  the 
majority  make  it  by  flying  directly 
across  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  or  the 
Caribbean,  even  though  this  involves 
a  non-stop  flight  of  several  hundred 
miles.  The  flights  of  European  song 
birds  to  Africa  are  even  more 
remarkable.  Not  only  must  they  cross 
the  Mediterranean,  but  immediately 
thereafter  they  are  faced  with  1000 
miles  of  Sahara  Desert,  which  offers 

nothing  but  death  by  desiccation  for 
birds  that  land  there.  It  has  been 
determined  that  many  of  the  European 
song  birds  must  make  a  minimum 
non-stop  flight  of  1200  miles,  no  small 
feat  for  a  bird  weighing  an  ounce  or 
two.  They  are  able  to  accomplish  this 
by  laying  up  fuel  in  the  form  of  a 
heavy  layer  of  fat  just  before  they  start 
their  flight.  When  they  take  off,  up  to  30 
percent  to  40  percent  of  their  weight  ■ 

may  be  fat,  most  of  which  will  be  * 

expended  by  the  time  they  reach 
subsaharan  Africa.  The  most 
remarkable  long-distance  migrant  of  all 
is  the  Arctic  Tern.  After  breeding  in 
northern  Canada,  it  crosses  the  north 
Atlantic,  goes  south  along  the  west 
coast  of  Europe  and  Africa,  winters  in 
antarctic  waters,  and  returns  north 
along  the  coasts  of  the  Americas,  a 
25,000  mile  round  trip  every  year. 

Most  people  who  have  had  birds 
nesting  around  their  homes  have 
wondered  whether  the  same  birds 
return  each  year  or  new  ones  arrive 
opportunistically.  The  general  rule  (no 
rule  of  behavior  can  be  written  that 
will  fit  all  species)  is  that  the  same 
bird  or  pair  of  birds  will  return  year 
after  year  to  the  spot  where  they 
nested  previously.  This  was 
demonstrated  many  years  ago  with 
Purple  Martins  and  later  with  many  • 

other  species.  But  what  has  only  I 



recently  been  appreciated  is  that  each 
bird  will  have  its  own  restricted 
wintering  ground  to  which  it  returns 
year  after  year,  even  though  the  latter 
has  none  of  the  strong  breeding 
associations  characteristic  of  the 
northern  home.  Dr.  Jocelyn  van  Tyne 
first  demonstrated  this  in  1934  by 
banding  Indigo  Buntings  in  Guatemala 
one  winter  and  finding  the  same 
individuals  returning  the  following  year. 
Since  his  pioneering  efforts  others 
have  demonstrated  the  same  for  many 
species  both  in  Africa  and  tropical 
America.  Even  more  remarkable  than 
this  ability  to  find  the  same  garden  or 
field  after  a  trip  of  several  thousand 
miles  is  the  proven  ability  to  follow  the 
identical  route  along  the  way.  Banders 
trapping  birds  during  migration  are 
finding  that  the  same  birds  pass 
through,  autumn  after  autumn  or  spring 
after  spring.  One  bander  in  Tunis  on 
the  north  coast  of  Africa  captured  the 
same  Redstart  each  spring  for  three 
years.  For  the  Redstart  this  meant 
crossing  a  thousand  miles  of 
featureless  desert  and  finding  the  same 
small  garden  in  which  it  rested  a  few 
days  the  previous  year  before  leaving 
for  its  nesting  home  in  Europe.  It  would 
be  like  stopping  at  the  same  gas 
station  on  the  way  from  Chicago  to 
New  York,  but  without  any  roads  to 
guide  us. 

One  can  hardly  study  migration  without 
wondering  how  the  birds  find  their 
way.  It  was  originally  believed  that 
they  piloted  by  following  natural 
features  such  as  shorelines  and  major 
rivers,  and  these  were  frequently 
designated  major  flyways.  There  is  no 
question  that  birds  do  take  advantage 
of  these  landmarks,  and  there  are  often 
concentrations  of  migrants  in  favorable 
areas,  but  too  much  accurate 
navigation  takes  place  in  the  absence 
of  natural  features  for  this  to  be  the 
only  means.  The  Bristle-thighed  Curlew 
crosses  a  minimum  of  2000  miles  of 
open  ocean  from  Hawaii  to  its  only 
nesting  place  in  western  Alaska,  and  it 
must  obviously  navigate  without 
landmarks.  Experiments  have  shown 

that  some  species  orient  by  the  stars 
and  others  by  the  sun,  and  in  both 
cases  they  have  an  inner  clock  that 
allows  them  to  compensate  for  the 
rotation  of  the  earth.  Bird  navigation  is 
too  large  and  uncertain  a  subject  to  be 
treated  fully  in  an  article  on  migration, 
but  my  own  feeling  is  that  birds  will 
use  all  the  means  mentioned  above,  as 
well  as  others  not  demonstrated,  such 
as  the  magnetic  field  of  the  earth. 

The  altitude  at  which  birds  fly  is 
another  aspect  of  migration  for  which 
many  details  are  known,  but  for  which 
no  general  rules  may  be  laid  down. 
Radar  studies  show  that  small 
songbirds  may  fly  at  any  level  up  to 
5000  feet  above  the  ground,  and  the 
shore  birds  and  waders  up  to  10,000 
feet.  Generally  the  migrants  are  higher 
on  clear  nights  than  on  cloudy  ones, 
and  it  is  the  low-flying  birds  on  the 
cloudy  nights  that  are  confused  by  the 
lighted  buildings  of  the  city  and  fly 
into  them.  These  dead  and  injured 
birds  are  usually  the  city  dweller's  only 
clue  to  small-bird  migration.  The 
absolute  height  records  are  probably 
held  by  migrants  crossing  the 
Himalayas,  where  even  the  passes  are 
at  20,000  feet. 

Whatever  the  means  of  navigation,  the 
particular  pattern  of  migration  is 
genetically  determined  for  each 
species.  Among  many  of  the  shorebirds 
the  adults  leave  as  soon  as  the  young 
can  fend  for  themselves,  and  the 
latter  make  migrations  of  thousands  of 

Migrations  of  the  Bobolink.  After  malting  an 
enormous  flight  across  the  Americas,  the  Boboiinlt 
winters  in  eastern  Bolivia,  southern  Brazil  and 
northern  Argentina. 

miles  without  any  experienced  birds  to 
guide  them.  One  would  expect  that  the 
evolution  of  such  intricate  behavior 
would  take  countless  thousands  of 
years,  but  those  of  our  more  northern 
migrants  must  have  evolved  within  the 
last  10,000  years,  because  before  that 
their  breeding  grounds  were  covered 
with  ice.  A  suggestion  of  how  present 
migratory  routes  developed  may  be 
found  in  the  migrations  of  species  that 
are  at  present  rapidly  extending  their 
ranges.  The  Asiatic  Arctic  Warbler  and 
Yellow  Wagtail  have  crossed  over  and 
now  nest  regularly  in  Alaska,  and  our 
Gray-cheeked  Thrush  now  nests  in 
eastern  Siberia,  but  in  each  case  the 
birds  cross  back  over  the  Bering  Sea 
to  return  to  their  old  wintering  grounds, 
instead  of  going  south  to  the  much 
nearer  tropical  areas  of  their  new 
continents.  Apparently  the  birds  are 
conservative  in  their  habits,  and  new 
routes  are  built  up  by  adding  small 
increments  to  the  old  ones. 

I  have  confined  my  discussion  to  bird 
migration,  for  that  is  my  own  field  of 
knowledge,  but  migration  is  not 
confined  to  any  one  group  of  animals. 
Butterflies,  of  which  the  best  known  is 
our  Monarch,  may  travel  a  thousand 
miles,  and  the  former  seasonal 
movement  of  the  Buffalo  on  the  plains 
was  one  of  the  most  awesome  sights 
of  nature.  Salmon  are  notorious  for 
their  breeding  runs,  and  already  the 
Coho  in  Lake  tvlichigan  have  developed 
a  predictable  pattern  that  allows  the 
fisherman  to  meet  them  on  their  way 
up  the  lake  in  summer.  Even  though 
we  cannot  fully  understand  how 
migration  takes  place,  we  can  be 
enthralled  by  the  beauty  and  intricacy 
of  the  patterns  nature  develops. 


Jean  Dorst.  The  Migrations  of  Birds.  New 
York:  Houghton  Mifflin  Co.,  1962. 

Robert  T.  Orr.  Animals  in  Migration.  New 
York:  Macmillan  Company,  1970. 

Melvin  A.  Traylor  is  associate  curator  ot 
birds,  Field  Museum. 



before  credit  cards     elizabeth  munger 

When  the  inhabitants  of  one  country  became  more  dependent  on  those  of  another,  and 
they  imported  what  they  needed,  and  exported  what  they  had  too  much  of,  money 
necessarily  came  into  use.  For  the  various  necessaries  of  life  are  not  easily  carried  about, 
and  hence  men  agreed  to  employ  in  their  dealings  with  each  other  something  which  was 
intrinsically  useful  and  easily  applicable  to  the  purposes  of  life,  for  example,  Iron,  silver, 
and  the  like.  Of  this  the  value  was  at  first  measured  simply  by  size  and  weight,  but  in 
process  of  time  they  put  a  stamp  upon  it,  to  save  the  trouble  of  weighing  and  to  mark  the 
value. — Aristotle,  Politics,  Bk.  l:Ch.  9,  33-41,  trans,  by  Benjamin  Jowett. 

Several  especially  Important  ancient 
Greek  silver  coins  and  two  Roman 
medallions,  part  of  a  collection  recently 
donated  to  Field  Museum  by  Jon 
Holtzman,  of  Madison,  Wisconsin  and 
Paul  Holtzman,  of  Las  Vegas,  Nevada, 
are  on  display  in  the  South  Lounge 
through  November  7.  Three  different 
styles  of  coin  from  the  6th  century  B.C. 
represent  the  earliest  period  in  the 
history  of  coinage,  the  Archaic  period 
of  Greek  art.  One  beautiful  specimen 
from  the  4th  century  B.C.  exemplifies 
the  Finest  Art  period. 

Western  world  coinage  is  believed  to 
have  been  invented  about  640  B.C.  in 
the  Asia  Minor  Kingdom  of  Lydia. 
That's  what  Herodotus  said,  and  most 
modern  scholars  are  disposed  to  agree 
with  him.  The  beginning  of  coinage  in 
China  about  the  same  time  was 
probably  an  independent  invention,  in 
the  West  the  first  metal  used  was  a 
naturally  occurring  mixture  of  gold  and 
silver  called  electrum,  which  came 
from  the  river  beds  in  Lydia.  But  silver 
then  became  most  commonly  used, 
and  only  occasionally  gold. 

Among  ancient  Greek  coins  now  on  display  in 
South  Lounge  are  these  illustrated.  Page  22,  top  to 
bottom:  stater  of  Aegina,  struck  550-480  B.C.. 
obverse  and  reverse,  and  tetradrachm  of  Athens, 
struck  540-500  B.C.,  obverse  and  reverse.  Page  23, 
top  to  bottom:  tetradrachm  of  Acanthus,  struck 
525-500  B.C.,  obverse  and  reverse,  and  tetradrachm 
of  Clazomenae.  struck  387-301  B.C..  obverse  and 

Technologically  it  was  really  just  a  step 
forward  to  make  small  equivalent  units, 
coins,  of  the  precious  metal  bars  or 
ingots  that  were  previously  used  in 
trade  exchange — no  doubt  sometimes 
stamped  with  their  claimed  weights, 
and  perhaps  even  a  mark  identifying 
their  origin. 

The  stater  was  an  early  basic  weight 
denomination.  It's  an  oversimplification 
of  many  variations  of  standards,  but  we 
could  think  of  3,000  shekels  (staters) 
=  60  Minae  =  1  Talent,  and  1  stater 
as  equal  to  2  drachms.  Hence  the 
tetradrachm  pieces  shown  here  were 
equal  to  two  staters.  Electrum 
consisted  of  about  73  percent  gold  and 
27  percent  silver  and  was  valued  at 
10:1  in  relation  to  silver.  The  same 
weight  standard  was  thus  easily  usable 
for  both  metals,  so  that  one  electrum 
stater  or  tetradrachm  would  equal  ten 
silver  staters  or  tetradrachms.  Gold 
was  more  complicated  because  it  had 
a  13.1:1  relationship  to  silver. 

The  first  coins  were  merely  equivalent 
weights  of  metal  lumps  hammered 
more  or  less  flat  between  two 
unengraved  die  punches.  This 
technique,  which  accounts  for  their 
irregularities,  remained  the  standard 
method  for  at  least  1 ,500  years.  But 
artistic  treatment  emerged  very  early 
in  the  form  of  an  engraved  image 
(called  type)  on  the  lower  die,  which 
produced  the  obverse  or  face  of  the 
coins.  The  reverse  side  had  only  an 
incuse,  a  rough  indentation  from  the 

In  the  beginning  the  types  were 
animals,  which  probably  had  sacred 
significance  as  well  as  special  local 
import  for  the  town  issuing  the  coins. 
Only  later  was  the  image  of  a  divinity 
especially  important  to  the  town  used. 



Its  purpose  was  not  only  to  Identify 
the  origin  of  thie  coin  but  also  to 
impress  the  users  that  an 
unimpeachable  witness  vouched  for  its 
full  weight  and  purity.  In  fact,  a  vestige 
of  the  tradition  is  still  with  us,  for  our 
own  coins  assert  "In  God  We  Trust." 
These  silent  invocations  did  not 
identify  the  value  of  the  coins, 
whatever  Aristotle  meant  (the 
translation  is  a  little  ambiguous).  They 
"marked"  the  value  of  coins  only  in 
the  sense  of  an  intended  guarantee  of 
full  value. 

But  neither  forgeries  nor  debasement 
were  prevented  by  such  devices.  Some 
of  the  specimens  on  display  show  how 
wary  ancient  bankers  made  their 
test  cuts  to  be  sure  the  coins  were 
pure  through  and  through.  In  fact, 
there  is  evidence  that  in  Roman  times 
debasement  was  sometimes  so 
institutionalized  that  mintmasters  had  to 
earn  their  pay  by  producing  a  certain 
proportion  of  coins  that  were  merely 
silver-plated  over  a  copper  core. 

The  first  European  Greek  city-state  to 
establish  coinage  was  Aegina,  in  the 
late  7th  century  B.C.  The  early 
example  shown  here  has  the 
smooth-backed  sea  turtle  emblem,  an 
animal  sacred  to  Aphrodite,  whose 
temple  overlooked  the  harbor  of  Aegina. 
One  of  her  most  important 
responsibilities  was  to  function  as 
goddess  of  trade.  Aegina's  coins 
became  the  internationally  accepted 
currency  of  trade  throughout  the 
Peloponnese  until  Athens  took 
possession  of  the  island  during  the 
Peloponnesian  War. 

Athens'  coinage,  established  about 
575  B.C.,  was  the  first  to  use  a  type 
on  both  sides  and  also  the  first  to  use 
a  human  head  to  identify  a  god.  The 
"almond"  eye  of  Athenia  in  profile  on 
the  obverse  side  of  the  specimen 
shown  here  is  a  mark  of  the  Archaic 
period.  The  owl  on  the  reverse  side 
was  as  much  the  emblem  of  the  city 
as  was  their  patron  goddess;  it 
represented  the  Athenian  god  of  the 

night,  the  originals  of  which  lived  in 
the  hills  around  the  city.  Next  to  the 
owl  the  first  three  letters  of  the  city's 
name  can  be  faintly  distinguished. 
These  emblems  persisted  in  Athenian 
coinage  down  to  the  time  of  Augustus, 
though  the  style  of  representation 
changed.  The  Athenian  "owls" 
challenged  and  replaced  the  Aeginetan 
"turtles"  as  the  pre-eminent 
international  currency. 

A  lion  downing  a  bull  was  the 
constant — and  appropriate — emblem  of 
the  city  of  Acanthus  in  Macedonia,  for 
according  to  Herodotus  this  area  had 
many  lions  and  wild  bulls.  Even 
camels  in  Xerxes'  expeditionary  forces 
against  the  Greeks  were  attacked  by 
lions  in  this  district.  The  reverse  side 
of  the  example  shown  here  has  the 
quartered-square  incuse  that  this  city's 
coins  retained  until  late  in  the  5th 
century  B.C. 

The  tetradrachm  of  Clazomenae  with 
its  high-relief  three-quarter-view  head 
of  Apollo  on  the  obverse  and 
spread-winged  swan  on  the  reverse 
side  is  a  choice  example  of  the  high 
artistic  level  Greek  coins  reached 
during  the  4th  century  B.C.  The  die 
engraver,  Theodotos,  signed  his  work, 
though  it  is  not  legible  on  this 
specimen.  Of  the  only  twenty 
specimens  of  this  coin  known  to  exist, 
two  are  in  the  British  Ivluseum,  and 
now  one  in  Field  IVIuseum. 

Elizabeth  lounger  is  associate  editor  ol  the 
Field  Museum  Bulletin. 



Brenton  Reported  Missing 

Francis  Brenton,  who  soloed  the  Atlantic 
three  times,  twice  in  dugout  canoes,  has  not 
been  heard  from  since  leaving  on  his  latest 
venture.  The  writer-photographer  sailed  from 
Portsmouth,  Virginia  on  March  22  bound  for 
Portsmouth,  England.  His  craft  was  a 
catamaran,  the  Sarape,  made  of  two 
decked-over  dugout  canoes.  The  U.S.  Coast 
Guard  has  called  off  the  alert  for  him 
because  of  the  time  that  has  elapsed. 

Brenton  returned  from  South  America  early 
this  year  with  more  than  100  artifacts 
collected  for  the  Museum  while  exploring 
the  jungles  along  the  Amazon  and  Orinoco 

In  1967,  after  a  107-day  voyage  that  had 
begun  at  Trepassey,  Newfoundland,  he  was 
unwillingly  rescued  by  a  Russian  ship,  just 
30  miles  from  his  destination,  the  African 

Resourceful  Brenton  has  made  it 
successfully  through  many  difficult  situations 
in  the  past.  When  necessary,  he  existed  on 
a  diet  of  barnacles  and  seaweed  during  long 
voyages.  He  is  an  excellent  sailor. 

We  hope  that  we  have  news  that  he  is  safe 
and  well  soon. 

Backyard  Safari 

Field  Museum,  the  Chicago  Board  of 
Education,  and  WBBM-TV  are  cooperatively 
producing  a  39-week  series  of  natural 
history  television  programs  for  young 
Chicago  viewers.  "Backyard  Safari"  can  be 
seen  each  Sunday,  8:00  -  8;30  a.m.  on 
Channel  2.  The  programs  focus  on  the 
natural  history  of  the  Chicago  area  and 
encourage  viewers  to  enjoy  studying 
natural  history  "in  their  own  backyard." 

Program  host  is  Dr.  Leonard  Reiffel,  CBS 
science  consultant.  Appearing  on  the  show 
each  week  with  Dr.  Reiffel  are  a  special 
guest — often  a  Field  Museum  scientist — and 
two  science  students  from  Chicago  schools. 

AAA  Short  Courses 

The  first  in  a  series  of  short  courses  for 
college  teachers  on  a  broad  range  of 
subjects  will  be  presented  at  Field  Museum 
on  October  28  and  29,  sponsored  by  the 
American  Association  for  the  Advancement 
of  Science.  The  opening  courses  are 
Thermodynamics  and  Biology  and  Human 
Affairs.  Other  courses  will  be  offered  in 
two-day  sessions  in  November  and 

Supported  by  the  National  Science 
Foundation,  the  program  is  open  to  college 
teachers  in  the  natural  and  social  sciences, 
mathematics,  and  engineering  from  two  or 
four  year  degree-granting  institutions.  It  is 
offered  at  twelve  field  centers  throughout 
the  country.  The  courses  consist  of  an 
initial  session  of  two  days  of  intensive 
lectures  and  discussions,  followed  by 
approximately  three  months  for  individual 
study,  and  a  final  two-day  session  in 
February  and  March,  1972. 

For  further  information  contact  the  Museum's 
Department  of  Education. 

de  la  Torre  Appointed  Head  of 

Dr.  Luis  de  la  Torre  has  been  appointed 
curator  and  head  of  the  Division  of 
Mammals  in  the  Museum's  Department  of 
Zoology.  Prior  to  this  appointment  he  was 
professor  in  the  Department  of  Oral 
Anatomy  at  the  University  of  Illinois  Medical 
Center,  but  he  has  also  been  associated 
with  our  Division  of  Mammals  for  twenty 
years.  Dr.  de  la  Torre's  research  has 
covered  such  diverse  areas  as  chromosome 
and  DNA  analysis  and  descriptive  taxonomy. 

Young  Visitor 

Nine-year-old  Kevin  Dye,  who  managed  to  survive 
during  the  11  days  he  was  lost  in  the  Wyoming 
wilderness,  came  to  Field  Museum  recently  to  see 
the  animals  and  birds  in  the  collections.  He  is 
shown  with  his  parents,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Phillip  Dye  of 
Casper,  Wyoming,  as  they  visited  Malvina  Hoffman's 
sculpture  of  the  Vedda  Man  from  Ceylon.  Kevin 
was  in  Chicago  for  a  week  of  testing  by  medical 

$25,000,000  Capital  Campaign 

Field  Museum  has  launched  a  three-year 
capital  campaign  to  fund  a  $25-million  major 
improvement  program.  These  funds  are 
needed  to  maintain  and  modernize  the 
Museum's  fifty-year-old  building,  revise  and 
renovate  exhibit  areas,  install  new  and 
relevant  exhibits,  and  improve  visitor  service 
and  educational  facilities.  The  full  story  of 
the  capital  campaign  is  told  in  "More  About 
Field  Museum,  or  Why  We  Need 
$25,000,000"  beginning  on  page  9  of  this 
issue  of  the  Bulletin. 

Jade  Ball 
November  5 

Field  Museum's  Women's  Board  members  are  busy  planning  a  gala  Jade  Ball  on 
November  5  to  Inaugurate  the  soon-to-open  "John  L.  and  Helen  Kellogg  Hall." 
housing  the  Museum's  famous  collection  of  Chinese  iades.  Mrs.  Edward  F.  Swift, 
vice-chairman  of  the  decorations  committee,  and  Mrs.  Thomas  E.  Donnelley  II, 
chairman  of  the  Jade  Ball  committee,  unpack  some  of  the  beautiful  Chinese  lanterns 
lust  received  from  Singapore  and  Hong  Kong  that  will  be  part  of  the  exciting 
setting  for  the  event.  Tickets  are  $50  per  person  and  reservations  may  be  made 
by  phoning  or  writing  the  Women's  Board. 




9  a.m.  to  5  p.m.  Saturday  through  Thursday,  and 
9  a.m.  to  9  p.m.  Friday. 

The  Museum  Library  Is  open  9  a.m.  to  4:30  p.m. 
Monday  through  Friday.  Please  obtain  pass  at 
reception  desk,  main  floor  north. 



Color  in  Nature,  an  exhibit  examining  the 
nature  and  variety  of  color  in  the  physical 
and  living  world,  and  how  it  functions  in 
plants  and  animals.  It  focuses  on  the  many 
roles  of  color,  as  in  mimicry,  camouflage, 
warning,  sexual  recognition  and  selection, 
energy  channeling,  and  vitamin  production, 
using  Museum  specimens  as  examples. 
Continues  indefinitely.  Hall  25. 

The  Afro-American  Style,  From  the  Design 
Works  of  Bedford-Stuyvesant,  an  exhibit  of 
textiles  blending  classical  African  motifs 
and  contemporary  design.  The  original  Field 
Museum  Benin  artifacts  which  inspired  many 
of  the  designs  are  also  shown.  Financial 
assistance  for  the  exhibit  was  received  from 
the  CNA  Foundation,  Chicago,  and  the 
Illinois  Arts  Council,  a  state  agency. 
Through  December  31.  Hall  9. 

Jotin  James  Audubon's  elephant  folio,  The 
Birds  0/  America,  on  display  in  the  North 
Lounge.  A  different  plate  from  the  rare, 
first-edition  volumes  is  featured  each  day. 

Field  Museum's  75tli  Anniversary  Exhibit 

continues  indefinitely.   "A  Sense  of  Wonder" 
offers  thought-provoking  prose  and  poetry 
associated  with  physical,  biological,  and 
cultural  aspects  of  nature;  "A  Sense  of 
History"  presents  a  graphic  portrayal  of  the 
Museum's  past;  and  "A  Sense  of  Discovery" 
shows  examples  of  research  conducted  by 
Museum  scientists.  Hall  3. 

Rare  Ancient  Numismatic  Collection,  a 

highly  important  group  of  four  Greek  silver 
coins  from  the  sixth  and  fourth  centuries 
I       B.C.  and  two  Roman  medallions  from  the 
s'      third  and  fourth  centuries  A.D.,  on  display 
in  the  South  Lounge  through  November  7. 
They  are  part  of  a  collection  donated  to 
Field  Museum  by  Jon  Holtzman  of  Madison, 
Wisconsin,  and  Paul  Holtzman  of  Las  Vegas, 

Children's  Programs 


"Between  the  Tides,"  Fall  Journey  for 
Children,  takes  them  hunting  for  exotic  and 
beautiful  sea  creatures  in  the  Museum 
exhibit  areas.  All  youngsters  who  can  read 
and  write  are  welcome  to  join  in  the  activity. 
Journey  sheets  are  available  at  Museum 
entrances.  Through  November  30. 

Film  Program 

Free  Natural  History  Film  "Patterns  for 
Survival"  (A  Study  of  Mimicry)  presented  at 
1 1  a.m.  and  1  p.m.  on  Saturdays  and  1 1 
a.m.,  1  p.m.,  and  3  p.m.  on  Sundays  in  the 
second  floor  Meeting  Room.  The  half-hour 
film  offers  an  overall  view  of  protective 
coloration  in  insects  and  provides  visitors 
with  an  insight  into  the  "Color  in  Nature" 
exhibit.  Continues  indefinitely. 

Fall  Film-Lecture  Series,  2:30  p.m. 
Saturdays  in  the  James  Simpson  Theatre. 

October  16:  "Norse  Adventure,"  narrated 
by  Hjordis  Kittel  Parker.  A  film  history  of 
Norway  from  the  ice  Age  through  the  Viking 
Period  and  up  to  the  present  time.  Highlights 
include  the  flora  and  fauna  of  Spitzbergen, 
near  the  North  Pole;  the  home  life  of  a 
modern  Oslo  family;  and  scenes  of  the 
magnificent  fjords. 

October  23:  "Our  Glorious  National  Parks," 

narrated  by  Edward  M.  Brigham,  Jr.  A  film 
commemorating  the  creation  of  the  first 
national  park  in  1872.  It  emphasizes  the 
need  for  the  protection  of  wildlife  and 
natural  wonders.  Some  of  the  parks  shown 
are  Yellowstone,  Glacier,  Mesa  Verde, 
Petrified  Forest,  Grand  Canyon,  Rainbow 
Bridge,  Zion,  Yosemite,  and  Brice. 

October  30:  "Ecuador  and  Darwin's 
Galapagos,"  narrated  by  Hugh  Pope.  This 
unusual  film  visits  Quito,  where  quaint 
Spanish  traditions  abound,  the  jungles  of 
the  Oriente  Province,  and  the  Colorados 
Indians;  it  then  travels  six  hundred  miles  off 
the  mainland  of  Ecuador  to  the  fabulous 
Galapagos  Islands,  where  penguins,  giant 
tortoises,  marine  iguanas,  and  other  unique 
creatures  roam  unafraid. 

Tn»t*«t  ot  Field  Museum 

Harry  0.  Bercher 
Bowen  Blair 

William  McCormick  Blair 
William  R.  Dickinson,  Jr. 
Thomas  E.  Donnelley  II 
Marshall  Field 
Nicholas  Galltzine 
Paul  W.  Goodrich 
Remick  McDowell 
Hugo  J.  Melvoin 
J.  Roscoe  Miller 
William  H.  Mitchell 
Charles  F.  Murphy,  Jr. 
Harry  M.  Oliver.  Jr. 
Life  Trustee* 
Joseph  N.  Field 
Clifford  C.  Gregg 
Samuel  Insull,  Jr. 
William  V.  Kahler 

John  T.  PIrle,  Jr. 
John  S    Runnells 
William  L.  Seatie 
John  M.  Simpson 
Edward  Byron  Smith 
Mrs.  Edward  Byron  Smith 
Mrs.  Hermon  Dunlap  Smith 
John  W.  Sullivan 
William  G.  Swartchlld,  Jr. 
E.  Leiand  Webber 
Julian  B.  Wilkins 
J.  Howard  Wood 
Blaine  J.  Yarrlngton 

Hughston  M.  McBaIn 
James  L.  Palmer 
John  G.  Searle 
Louis  Ware 

November  6:  "As  an  Artist  Sees  Spain," 

narrated  by  Franklyn  Carney.  A  film  journey 
to  the  Prado  Museum,  El  Greco's  Toledo, 
and  colorful  cities  and  gardens. 

November  13:  "Camera  Safari  to  Africa," 

narrated  by  Col.  John  D.  Craig.  A  film  tour 
of  important  game  parks  to  see  the  wildlife 
and  scenic  wonders. 

November  20;  "The  Two  Worlds  of  Berlin," 

narrated  by  Arthur  F.  Wilson.  A  timely 
biographical  sketch  on  film  of  a  city  and  its 
people  from  World  War  II  to  the  present. 

November  27:  "Micronesia,"  narrated  by 
C.  P.  Lyons.  A  film  story  about  a  group  of 
tiny  islands  in  the  Western  Pacific  and  the 
colorful  people  who  still  retain  their 
picturesque  customs  and  traditions. 


October  12:  7:45  p.m.,  Nature  Camera  Club 
of  Chicago. 

October  12:  8  p.m.,  Chicagoland  Glider 

October  13:  7:30  p.m..  Windy  City  Grotto, 
National  Speleological  Society. 

October  14:  8  p.m.,  Chicago  Mountaineering 

October  17:  2  p.m.,  Chicago  Shell  Club. 

A  Reminder 

Visits  to  Field  Museum  earlier  in  the  day  are 
recommended  for  Sundays  when  Chicago 
Bears  home  games  are  scheduled  in  Soldier 

Because  of  the  afternoon  games,  the 
Southeast  parking  facilities  will  be  filled,  and 
the  North  lot  reserved  for  Museum  guests 
undoubtedly  strained  to  capacity. 

Dates  are:  October  10  and  31,  November  7, 
14  and  21,  and  December  19. 





Volume  42,  Number  10 
November  1971 

Cover;  Taken  from  rubbing  from  Wu  family  shrine, 
Shantung  Province,  Latter  Han  Dynasty  (AD. 
25-220),  depicting  reception  of  King  Mu  by 
Hsi-wang  Mu,  the  legendary  mother  queen  of  the 
west.  She  dwells  in  the  K'un-lun  Mountains  and  has 
within  her  power  the  gift  of  Immortality.  Enlarged 
facsimile  of  rubbing  is  in  the  new  Hall  of  Jades. 

2   Jade  in  Chinese  Culture 

Louise  Yuhas 

a  discussiofi  of  the  significance  and  uses  of  jade  in 
China  since  Neolithic  times  is  illustrated  by  pieces  in 
Field  Museum's  fine  collection,  which  spans  4,000  years 

12    Is  it  Really  Jade  or  Not? 

Edward  J.  Olsen 

a  mineralogist  explains  why  this  is  not  an  easy  question 

to  answer 

14    Mid-SI(y  Charming  Girls 

Virginia  Straub 

aerial  music  from  flutes  attached  to  the  tails  of  pigeons 

used  to  delight  the  Chinese 

1 6    Field  Briefs 


Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 

Director,  E.  Leiand  Webber 

Editor  Joyce  Zibro;  Associate  Editor  Elizabeth  Munger;  Staff  Writer  Madge  Jacobs;  Production  Russ  Becker;  Ptiotography  John  Bayalis, 

Fred  Huysmans. 

The  Bulletin  is  published  monthly  except  August  by  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois 
60605.  Subscriptions:  $6  a  year;  $3  a  year  for  schools.  Members  of  the  Museum  subscribe  through  Museum  membership.  Opinions  expressed 
by  authors  are  their  own  and  do  not  necessarily  reflect  the  policy  of  Field  Museum.  Unsolicited  manuscripts  are  welcome.  Application  to  mail 
at  second-class  postage  rates  is  pending  at  Chicago,  Illinois.  Postmaster:  Please  send  form  3579  to  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History, 
Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605. 



Jade  in  Chinese  Culture      Louise  Yuhas 

Hundreds  of  the  choicest  pieces  in 
Field  Museum's  exceptional  collection 
of  Chinese  jade  carvings  are  again  on 
view  as  of  November  10.  That  is  the 
opening  date  of  the  new  jade  room, 
called  the  John  L.  and  Helen  Kellogg 
Hall  of  Jades.  This  new  permanent 
exhibition  was  fnade  possible  by  a 
generous  gift  from  Mrs.  Kellogg  in 
memory  of  her  husband. 

The  old  jade  hall  was  closed  in  1969 
to  permit  redocumentation  of  many 
pieces  based  on  new  archaeological 
data  which  made  more  accurate  dating 

The  foundation  of  the  Museum's 
collection  was  laid  by  Dr.  Berthold 
Laufer,  a  major  figure  in  the  early 
study  of  jade  and  jade  carving  and 
chief  curator  of  the  Department  of 
Anthropology  from  1915  to  1934,  on 
two  separate  expeditions  to  China — the 
Mrs.  T.  B.  Blackstone  Expedition  of 
1908-1910  and  the  Captain  Marshall 
Field  Expedition  in  1923.  The  largest 
single  addition  was  the  Bahr  Collection, 
acquired  in  1926.    Its  purchase  was 
made  possible  by  a  large  contribution 
mainly  from  Mrs.  Frances  Gaylord 
Smith,  who  also  bequeathed  to  the 
Museum  her  important  collection  of 
jades  of  the  Ch'ing  Dynasty  and 
modern  period.  Many  other  people  have 
also  added  fine  pieces  to  the  collection. 

To  mark  this  new  exhibition  of  our  jade 
treasures,  a  brief  review  is  presented 
of  the  role  of  jade  in  Chinese  culture 
from  the  Neolithic  period  down  to 
modern  times. 

All  of  the  objects  pictured  are  among 
those  on  exhibit  in  the  new  hall,  along 
with  Chinese  porcelains,  bronzes, 
scrolls,  rubbings,  and  ceramics. 

Though  several  cultures  have  carved 
jade  at  one  time  or  another,  the  Chinese 
raised  the  craft  to  its  greatest  height 
in  a  tradition  spanning  all  that  nation's 
history  from  the  Neolithic  period  to  the 
present.  The  position  of  jade  in 
Chinese  culture  can  only  be  compared 
with  that  of  gold  in  the  West.  Just  as 

Jade  carving  is  one  of  China's  oldest  continuous  traditions,  spanning  over  4,000  years.  The  eariiest 
carvings  were  made  during  the  Neolithic  period,  which  flourished  In  China — especially  northern 
China  around  the  Yellow  River — for  several  thousand  years,  ending  about  1500  B.C.  Jade  was  then 
one  of  the  hardest  materials  known,  and  Neolithic  Chinese  carved  their  weapons  and  tools  in  it. 

Tfie  jade  disk  shown  opposite  is  called  a  pi.   Its  function  in  Neolithic  times  is  uncertain,  but 
gradually  the  pi  became  accepted  as  a  symbol  of  heaven  and  was  used  both  in  religious  ceremony 
and  for  burial  with  the  dead. 

When  the  use  of  bronze  became  widespread  in  China's  first  historical  period,  the  Shang  Dynasty 
(c.  1500-1050  B.C.),  jade  was  no  longer  essential  for  tools  and  weapons  and  became  ceremonial 
In  function. 

Shang  motifs  are  almost  all  animal-like  forms.  Many  carvings  combine  human  and  bird 
characteristics,  for  the  Shang  people,  whose  religion  may  have  been  animistic,  traced  their  origins 
to  a  mythical  bird.  Although  the  small  carvings  shown  here  were  buried  with  the  dead,  it  is  likely 
that  they  were  worn  during  the  life  of  their  owners.  Some  are  perforated  pendants  or  appliques. 
The  fish,  traditionally  the  symbol  of  wealth  and  fertility,  is  one  of  the  most  common  types  of 
burial  carvings.  The  small  dragon  bears  bovine  horns;  its  typical  Shang  eye  hooks  sharply 
downward  at  the  inner  corner.  Although  most  Shang  carvings  are  very  stylized,  some,  such  as  the 
alligator  here,  combine  formalized  heads  with  naturalistic  bodies.   Top,  fish;  left,  crested  bird; 
right,  dragon,  alligator. 


gold  and  jewels — the  most  precious  of 
materials  to  Western  eyes — were 
thought  to  be  most  suitable  for 
religious  and  courtly  objects  like 
chalices,  sceptres,  reliquaries,  and 
crowns,  so  also  jade  was  treasured  by 
the  Chinese,  who  fashioned  it  into  the 
paraphernalia  of  their  ceremony  and 
religion.  Jade  has  also  tal<en  a  role  in 
the  Chinese  language  analogous  to  the 
role  of  gold  in  European  imagery: 
heart  of  jade,  tree  of  jade  (handsome 
young  man),  and  wheel  of  jade  (the 
moon)  are  common  metaphorical 
expressions.  The  chief  deity  of  the 
Taoist  religion  is  Yu-huang-ta-ti,  the 
Great  Jade  Emperor. 

One  reason  for  this,  of  course,  is  the 
beauty  of  the  stone  itself.  The  qualities 
peculiar  to  jade  were  sometimes 
compared  to  the  characteristics  of  the 
man  of  virtue.  A  lexicon  compiled  in 
the  2nd  century  A.D.  defines  jade  as 

Jade  is  the  fairest  of  stones.  It  is  endowed 
with  five  virtues.  Charily  is  typified  by  its 
lustre,  bright  yet  warm;  rectitude  by  its 
translucency,  revealing  the  color  and 
markings  within;  wisdom  by  the  purity  and 
penetrating  quality  of  its  note  when  the 
stone  is  struck;  courage  in  that  it  may  be 
broken  but  cannot  be  bent;  equity,  in  that  it 
has  sharp  angles  which  yet  injure  none. 

The  Li  Chi,  a  bool<  attributed  to 
Confucius  but  probably  written  during 
the  Han  Dynasty  (206  B.C.— A.D.  220), 
quotes  the  master  explaining  to  a 
disciple  why  the  superior  men  of  former 
times  valued  jade  over  all  other  stones. 
He  begins  by  saying  that  it  is  not 
because  of  the  rarity  of  jade,  but 
because  of  the  analogies  between  the 
luster,  strength,  soft  angles,  musicality, 
and  translucency  of  jade  and  the 
Confucian  virtues  of  benevolence, 
intelligence,  righteousness,  propriety, 
and  loyalty.  He  goes  on: 
.  .  .  with  an  Intense  radiance  issuing  from  It 
on  every  side — like  good  faith;  bright  as  a 
brilliant  rainbow — like  heaven;  exquisite 
both  in  the  hills  and  in  the  streams — like 
the  earth;  standing  out  conspicuous  as  a 
symbol  of  rank — like  the  path  of  truth  and 
duty  .  .  .  That  is  why  the  superior  man 
esteems  it  so  highly. 

The  Chou  Dynasty  was  the  longest  in  Chinese  history,  lasting  over  800  years,  from  1122-770  B.C. 
(Western)  and  770-249  B.C.  (Eastern).  The  Western  or  Early  Chou  period  was  in  many  respects  a 
continuation  of  the  Shang,  particularly  in  bronze  casting  and  jade  carving.   Most  surviving  jades  of 
the  Early  Chou  are  small  amulets  associated  with  burial  which  continue  the  Shang  style,  such  as 
the  bovine  head  and  rabbit  shown  here.  The  rabbit  was  associated  with  immortality  as  well  as 
fertility  and  was  thought  to  live  in  the  moon,  pounding  out  the  elixir  of  immortality  from  jade. 

One  notable  difference  in  the  carving  of  the  Early  Chou  and  the  Shang  is  greater  naturalism  in  the 
Early  Chou  jades.   Clearly  identifiable  animal  heads  replace  composite  masks. 

The  fashioning  of  ceremonial  blades  remained  an  important  occupation  of  the  jade  carver  in  Chou 
times.  In  general,  the  forms  are  continuations  of  the  Shang  blades,  ultimately  derived  from 
Neolithic  prototypes,  such  as  the  adze  and  chisel  types  and  rectangular  knife  blades.  Tliey 
probably  served  as  emblems  of  court  rank.  Above:  Early  Chou  ritual  blade. 

During  the  Middle  Chou,  a  period  of  warfare  and  chaos,  all  of  the  arts  suffered  a  loss  of  skill  and 
fineness.  Surviving  jades  from  this  period  reveal  a  change  from  the  intense  perfection  of  Shang 
detail  to  large,  cumbersome  forms  with  less  surface  decoration.    However,  lapidaries  were 
producing  some  attractive  decorative  beads  and  buttons  which  anticipate  the  Late  Chou 
renaissance.   The  jade  used  is  of  finer  quality  than  that  used  to  carve  larger  ceremonial  objects, 
and  the  surface  carving  is  skillful.  Left  to  right:  button;  bead. 


This  process  of  forming  analogies 
carries  with  it  a  slight  flavor  of 
rationalization,  justifying  the  love  of  a 
beautiful  material  within  the  strict  code 
of  Confucian  standards.  But  it  is  these 
qualities  of  jade,  whatever  their  external 
associations,  which  give  jade  its 
immediate  sensual  appeal. 

The  Chinese  reverence  for  jade  Is  also 
due  to  the  length  of  the  history  of  jade 
carving  in  China,  giving  it  the  appeal 
of  a  venerable  tradition.  By  the  5th 
century  B.C.,  when  Confucius  is  said  to 
have  given  the  description  of  jade 
quoted  above,  jade  had  already 
occupied  a  position  of  importance  for 
more  than  a  thousand  years.  The 
Neolithic  Chinese,  the  founders  of  the 
jade-carving  tradition,  made  tools  and 
weapons  from  it,  valuing  it  for  its 
toughness  and  hardness — for  its 
functional  qualities — rather  than  for  its 
esthetic  appeal.  When  metals  were 
introduced,  jade  was  gradually 
displaced  by  bronze  as  the  best 
material  for  tools  and  weapons,  and  by 
the  11th  century  B.C.  it  had  become  a 
sacred  material,  used  exclusively  for 
ritual  purposes  and  valued  for  its 
beauty,  rarity;  and  expense.  As  these 
rituals  in  turn  died  out,  jade  underwent 
another  transformation  and  by  the  3rd 
century  B.C.  had  become  primarily  a 
luxury  item,  carved  into  jewelry  and 
decorative  objects.  The  following  3rd 
century  B.C.  poem  from  the  Ch'u  Tz'u, 
translated  by  David  Hawkes,  and 
reproduced  in  the  new  jade  hall,  shows 
how  the  Chinese  had  come  to  use  jade. 

On  a  lucky  day  with  an  auspicious  name, 
Reverently  we  come  to  delight  the  Lord  on 

We  grasp  the  long  sword's  haft  of  lade, 
And  our  girdle  pendants  clash  and  chime. 
Jade  weights  fasten  the  god's  jeweled  mat. 

The  god  has  halted,  swaying,  above  us. 
Shining  with  a  persistent  radiance. 
He  is  going  to  rest  in  the  House  ot  Lite. 
His  brightness  is  like  the  sun  and  moon. 
He  yokes  to  his  dragon  car  the  steeds  of 

Now  he  flies  to  wander  round  the  sky. 
The  god  had  fust  descended  in  bright 

When  off  in  a  whirl  he  soared  again,  far  into 

the  clouds. 

During  the  latter  part  of  the  Chou  Dynasty  feudal  warfare  ravaged  the  country.  Paradoxically,  the 
political  breakdown  triggered  tremendous  creativity  in  political,  social,  and  artistic  theories. 
During  this  period  China's  two  major  philosophical  systems — Confucianism  and  Taoism — evolved. 

Iron  tools  replaced  bronze  and  stone,  malting  possible  much  more  ambitious  jade  carvings.  Jades 
of  this  period  show  sophistication  and  proficiency  of  technical  skill  never  before  realized. 
Ceremonial  blades  and  undecorated  pi  disks  completely  disappeared,  and  jade  became  popular  for 
decorative  and  utilitarian  objects,  such  as  the  hilt  guard  shown  here. 

The  ts'ung  is  one  of  the  most  problematical  ritual  Jades.  It  has  traditionally  been  identified  as  the 
symbol  of  the  earth.  Among  the  modern  theories  of  its  origin  are  suggestions  that  the  ts'ung  was 
the  sighting  tube  on  which  astronomical  instruments  were  rotated;  that  it  was  a  tube  for  storing 
ancestral  records;  that  it  was  a  phallic  symbol;  and  that  its  form  was  derived  from  the  wheel  nave 
of  a  chariot:  Below:  two  ts'ung  forms  from  Chou  period. 


However,  its  beauty  and  its  associations 
with  ancient  ritual  made  it  an  unusual 
and  nonfrivolous  kind  of  luxury  item. 
By  ttie  time  the  Han  Dynasty  was 
established,  jade  had  developed  its 
own  mythology.  The  bodies  of  the 
dead  were  dressed  with  jade  to  prevent 
decomposition,  and  immortality  was 
thought  to  be  assured  by  placing  jade 
amulets  in  the  tomb.  This  association 
of  jade  and  death  may  have  stemmed 
from  the  Neolithic  practice  of  placing  a 
man's  possessions,  some  of  them 
made  of  jade,  in  his  grave  with  him.  A 
body  of  legends  grew  up:  for  example, 
that  the  elixir  of  immortality  could  be 
distilled  from  jade,  or  that  eating  jade 
would  produce  both  immortality  and 
the  power  to  make  oneself  invisible 
and  able  to  fly.  In  addition,  the  Isles  of 
the  Immortals  were  said  to  produce 
trees  and  flowers  of  jade,  the  most 
famous  of  which  were  the  peaches  of 
Immortality.  These  and  other  legends 
provide  much  of  the  subject  matter  of 
Han  Dynasty  and  later  jade  carvings. 

Another  factor  contributing  to  the  high 
value  of  jade  in  Chinese  eyes  is  its 
intrinsic  rarity  and  expense.  No  source 
for  the  stone  has  ever  been  found  in 
China  proper;  it  therefore  must  have 
been  imported,  even  in  Neolithic 
times.  This  fact,  combined  with  the 
difficulty  of  carving  it,  has  made  all  but 
the  smallest  jade  object  into  a  luxury 
item,  reserved  for  the  court  and  the 

These  qualities  of  beauty,  antiquity, 
ritual  usage,  legend,  expense,  and 
difficulty  of  carving  all  combine  to 
make  jade  the  "fairest  of  stones," 
more  precious  to  the  Chinese  than 
gold,  more  cherished  than  diamonds. 

The  English  word  "jade"  comprises 
two  distinct  minerals,  nephrite  and 
jadeite.  The  Chinese  word  yu  refers 
primarily  to  nephrite  but  can  indicate 
any  fine  stone  which  has  some  of  the 
same  qualities.  Nephrite  is  the  form  of 
jade  traditionally  carved  by  the 
Chinese.  Jadeite,  familiar  to  the 
Western  world  through  its  use  in 

Elaborate  myths,  many  of  which  have  survived  among  the  people  ot  China  down  to  the  present 
day,  provided  subject  matter  for  many  Late  Chou  carvings.    Dragons,  the  most  important  of  the 
spirits,  inhabited  water  and  clouds  and  controlled  the  rains.  The  half-disk  shown  here  depicts 
dragons  in  the  clouds. 

With  the  founding  of  the  Han  Dynasty  (206  B.C.-A.D.  220),  following  the  short-lived  Ch'in  Dynasty 
(221-206  B.C.),  China  entered  her  first  imperial  age.  Her  borders  were  extended  into  Central  Asia 
and  Korea,  and  Buddhism  was  introduced  through  contacts  with  India. 

In  this  strongly  imperialistic  and  militaristic  age,  jade  continued  to  be  a  popular  material  for 
decorating  swords  and  scabbards.  The  archer,  meanwhile,  used  a  jade  thumb  ring  to  protect  his 
thumb  from  the  bowstring.  Belthooks,  belt  rings,  and  studs  of  jade  l>ecame  popular.  The  use  of 
seals  came  into  vogue  and  many  were  made  of  jade. 

The  ancient  (s'ung  and  pi  forms  reappeared.  The  pi,  often  decorated  with  floral  or  dragon  molils, 
lost  the  ritual  austerity  of  its  prototype. 

Jade  continued  to  be  used  in  funeral  rites  in  Han  times.  The  bodies  of  the  dead  were  covered 
with  shrouds  sewn  with  jade  plaques  and  jade  was  placed  in  the  apertures  of  the  body  to  prevent 
decomposition.   The  tomb  was  generally  furnished  with  models  of  animals,  servants,  and  whole 
households,  to  accompany  the  soul  of  the  deceased  in  his  journey  to  the  afterworld.  These  burial 
carvings  show  an  increased  realism  and  feeling  for  sculpture  in  the  round  over  traditional  flat  plaques. 

Religious  Taoism  which  produced  much  of  China's  rich  mythology  also  flourished  in  the  Han 
Dynasty.  Above,  left  to  right:  old  man,  traditionally  identified  as  Taoist  immortal;  sword  guard; 
duck  (burial  carving). 



jewelry,  was  not  used  in  China  until 
the  late  18th  century. 

The  mineral  properties  of  nephrite  and 
jadeite  differ  significantly.  While 
nephrite  is  a  calcium-magnesium 
silicate  belonging  to  the  amphibole 
group,  jadeite  is  a  sodium-aluminum 
silicate  belonging  to  the  pyroxene 
group.  Although  both  minerals  are 
crypto-crystalline  in  structure,  nephrite 
is  formed  of  short  interlocking  fibers, 
while  jadeite  is  an  aggregate  of  small 
grains.  Jadeite  is  harder,  but  nephrite, 
because  of  its  fibrous  structure,  is 
more  difficult  to  work. 

Although  it  sometimes  requires  the  eye 
of  an  expert  or  the  tools  of  a 
geologist's  laboratory  to  tell  whether  a 
specimen  is  nephrite  or  jadeite,  the  two 
minerals  can  often  be  distinguished 
more  simply,  by  color,  hardness,  and 
texture.  Jadeite  takes  on  a  smooth, 
glassy  sheen  when  polished,  while 
nephrite,  because  of  its  fibrous 
structure,  has  a  slightly  uneven  surface 
called  "tangerine-skin"  texture,  and 
takes  on  a  waxy  rather  than  a  glassy 
sheen.  Jadeite  is  also  hard  and  glassy 
to  the  touch;  nephrite  feels  slightly  oily 
and  seems  softer  and  warmer.  Hard, 
bright  colors,  particularly  green,  are 
characteristic  of  jadeite,  while  the 
colors  of  nephrite  tend  to  be  softer 
shades  of  green,  brown,  and  white. 

Pure  jade,  whether  nephrite  or  jadeite, 
is  white.  The  wide  range  of  possible 
colors,  which  span  the  spectrum  from 
white  to  black,  is  due  to  compounds  of 
iron,  manganese,  and  chromium  in  the 
stone.  The  most  common  colors  are 
whites,  greens,  and  browns;  reds, 
yellows,  blues,  lavenders,  and  blacks 
also  occur.  The  bright  "apple  green" 
common  in  modern  jade  jewelry 
occurs  only  in  jadeite. 

External  conditions  may  also  affect 
jade  colors.  Stones  which  have  lain  in 
the  open  or  in  river  beds  for  long 
periods  often  acquire  a  "skin"  of 
brown  due  to  weathering.  Jades  buried 
close  to  colored  objects  may  absorb 

During  the  second  century  A.D.  the  power  of  the  Han  rapidly  declined;  eunuchs  and  warlords 
gained  sway  at  court  while  peasants  revolted  in  the  countryside.  The  fall  of  the  last  Han  emperor 
in  A.D.  220  was  followed  by  over  three  centuries  of  chaos  and  barbarian  invasion,  known  as  the 
"periods  of  the  Three  Kingdoms  and  Six  Dynasties."   It  was  a  time  of  artistic  and  literary 
florescence,  similar  in  many  ways  to  the  Late  Chou  Dynasty.   Great  advances  were  made  In  prose 
writing  and  landscape  painting.  At  the  same  time,  however,  the  art  of  Jade  carving  fell  into  decay, 
partly  because  tribal  unrest  along  China's  western  frontiers  had  cut  off  the  flow  of  Jade  from 
distant  Khotan. 

Jades  in  the  style  of  the  Six  Dynasties  tend  to  be  small  in  size  and  secular  in  function.  Figurines 
in  the  round  are  among  the  most  common  forms.  The  two  small  boys  shown  liere  originally 
formed  part  of  sets  of  entertainer  figurines  used  as  tomb  furnishings 

The  1,500  years  between  the  end  of  Han  and  the  18th  century  are  known  as  the  "dark  ages"  ot 
jade.  They  are  called  "dark  ages"  because  very  little  excavation  has  been  done  on  sites  of  this 
period,  with  the  result  that  few  jade  carvings  can  be  accurately  dated.   In  general,  attributions  to 
Six  Dynasties,  T'ang,  Sung,  or  Ming  are  provisional. 

The  T'ang  Dynasty  (618-906)  was  one  of  the  great  periods  of  Chinese  history.  The  empire  was 
greatly  expanded  and  trade  was  carried  on  with  India  and  the  Near  East,  while  Chinese 
missionaries  spread  Buddhism  to  Korea  and  Japan.  Tomb  sculpture  reached  its  height  in  the 
T'ang,  and  tombs  were  filled  with  ceramic  models  of  entire  armies,  exotic  animals,  and  foreigners. 

The  dragon  and  phoenix,  which  appear  on  the  slit  ring  here,  were  popular  symbols  in  the  T'ang. 
They  represent  the  powers  of  yin  and  yang.  Tfie  dragon  is  yang,  the  male  principle,  the  bright, 
positive  force,  and  therefore  the  emperor.  The  phoenix  is  yin,  the  female  principle,  the  dark, 
negative  force,  the  earth,  and  therefore  the  empress.  The  two  together  produce  and  sustain  all  life. 


some  of  the  color.  The  color  of 
nephrite  can  also  be  altered  by 
burning.  When  heated  to  1025°  C.  it 
turns  into  a  yellowish-white  opaque 
substance.  As  this  color  is  similar  to 
that  of  jade  which  has  become 
leached  through  long  burial  (called 
"chicken-bone  white"),  burning  is  often 
used  to  simulate  an  antique 
appearance.  Burning  usually  produces 
fine  cracks  on  the  surface  which  can 
be  used  to  distinguish  it  from  leached 
nephrite,  but  the  best  test  is  the  X-ray 
diffraction  method,  which  reveals  the 
changes  in  mineral  structure  created 
by  burning. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  facts  about 
jade  has  already  been  mentioned — 
that  it  has  apparently  never  been 
found  in  China  proper.  The  nearest 
known  source  of  nephrite  is  around 
Khotan  in  Sinkiang  Province  in  the  far 
west  of  China  and  about  1,500  miles 
from  the  center  of  Chinese  culture  in 
the  Yellow  River  Valley.  Thus  the 
Neolithic  Chinese — probably  the  first 
Chinese  to  work  jade — must  have 
obtained  it  through  contact  and  trade 
with  Central  Asian  peoples.  There  is  no 
evidence,  however,  that  the  Chinese 
learned  the  craft  of  jade  carving  from 
the  Central  Asians.  No  carved  jade  has 
been  found  in  the  Khotan  region. 

Until  the  end  of  the  18th  century, 
the  Chinese  seem  to  have  obtained  all 
of  their  jade  raw  material  from 
Khotan;  thus  the  political  relations 
between  the  Chinese  and  the  Central 
Asian  tribes  exercised  a  strong 
influence  on  the  amount  of  jade 
available  for  carving  in  any  period.  At 
the  end  of  the  18th  century  a  new 
source  of  nephrite  was  discovered  in 
Siberia.  Siberian  nephrite  is  a  dark 
green  color  with  darker  flecks  and  is 
often  called  "spinach  jade."  It  was  at 
this  time  also  that  jadeite  was 
introduced  from  Burma. 

The  T'ang  Dynasty  collapsed  in  906  after  a  century  of  decline.  China  was  reunited  in  960  under 
the  Sung  (960-1279)  but  did  not  regain  its  former  power.   Prevented  from  imperial  expansion  by  tfie 
Central  Asian  tribes,  the  Chinese  turned  inward  and  explored  their  own  past.   They  reconstructed 
Shang  and  Chou  ritual  blades  and  carved  jade  cups,  pitchers,  and  vases. 

But,  for  the  most  part,  the  small  size  of  Sung  jades  reflects  the  shortages  of  jade  caused  by 
continuing  poor  relations  with  the  Central  Asians,  who  controlled  the  trade  routes  to  Khotan.  The 
Sung  took  a  great  Interest  in  the  natural  world  as  evidenced  by  the  sensitive  animal  jade  carvings 
tliat  have  come  down  to  us.  Many  of  these  carvings,  such  as  the  camel  shown  here,  have  been 
worn  smooth  from  years  of  handling. 

The  Mongols  conquered  all  of  China  in  1279,  ending  ttw  Sung  rule  and  establishing  their  own 
dynasty,  the  Yuan,  with  the  capital  at  Peking.  The  dynasty  lasted  only  until  1368  and  was  too  brief 
to  produce  a  distinctive  jade  carving  style. 

The  Mongols  were  expelled  in  1368  and  the  Ming  Dynasty  (1368-1644)  was  established.  Ming  artists 
and  craftsmen,  while  reviving  Sung  traditions,  produced  an  art  particularly  their  own.  They 
frequently  combined  purely  contemporary  styles  and  motifs  with  the  antique. 

Ming  jades  often  incorporated  the  brown  "skin"  or  weathered  outer  surface  of  jade  pebbles  into 
the  carvings,  as  in  the  cup  decorated  with  pairs  of  mother  and  baby  dragons  representing 
maternal  love  shown  here. 

Jade  is  also  found  in  other  areas  of 
the  world  and  has  been  worked  by 
other  peoples.  Although  none  evolved 
carving  techniques  and  skills  that  could 

Ming  powers  went  into  decline  in  the  late  16th  century.   In  1644  the  Ming  emperor  accepted  aid 
from  the  Manchu,  a  Northeast  Asian  tribe,  in  order  to  drive  Chinese  rebels  out  of  Peking.   The 
Manchu  liberated  the  city  but  refused  to  return  it  to  the  Ming,  installing  their  own  ruler  instead 
and  establishing  the  Ch'ing  Dynasty,  which  remained  in  power  until  1912. 



equal  those  of  the  Chinese,  the  Maoris 
of  New  Zealand,  the  Alaskan  Eskimos, 
and  the  Indians  of  Middle  America  all 
carved  jade  and  valued  it  highly.  Only 
the  Mughals  in  India  In  the  18th 
century  lavished  such  time  and 
craftsmanship  on  jade,  creating 
elaborate  carvings  inlaid  with  precious 
stones.  Even  the  Indian  carvings, 
however,  lack  the  sense  of  history  and 
tradition  communicated  by  those  of 
China;  they  are  pure  luxury  items  with 
none  of  the  wealth  of  associations  that 
a  Chinese  jade  conveys  to  the 
connoisseur.  Nephrite  has  also  been 
found  in  Wyoming  and  northern 
California,  but  it  is  not  of  gem  quality. 

As  we  have  noted,  the  traditional 
source  of  jade  for  the  Chinese  was  the 
area  of  Khotan.  Jade  pebbles  washed 
down  from  the  mountains  were  taken 
from  the  riverbeds  and  shipped  to 
China  for  working.  This  rather  primitive 
method  of  acquiring  jade  was  used 
exclusively  until  the  late  18th  century, 
and  partially  accounts  for  the  small 
size  of  most  early  carvings.  Around  the 
end  of  the  18th  century  the  demand 
grew  for  large  carvings,  and  attempts 
were  made  to  quarry  large  blocks 
directly  from  the  mountains.  One 
method  was  to  build  a  fire  under  a 
rock  face;  as  the  rock  heated  up, 
cracks  would  form.  Water  was  poured 
into  the  cracks  and  allowed  to  freeze, 
expanding  the  cracks  and  dislodging 
the  block.  Although  wasteful,  this 
method  yielded  larger  pieces  of  jade 
than  could  be  found  in  streambeds.  A 
large  jar  was  carved  from  such  a 
boulder  for  the  Ch'ien  Lung  Emperor 
(r.  1736-1795)  and  was  placed  in  the 
Imperial  Palace  in  Peking.  This  jar  is 
now  in  the  Field  Museum  collection. 

Once  the  jade  had  been  fished  from 
the  streams  or  quarried  from  the 
mountains  of  Khotan  and  shipped  by 
camel  train  to  China,  it  was  fashioned 
into  a  wide  variety  of  religious  and 
decorative  forms.  All  the  processes 
involved  in  working  jade,  from  the 
initial  cutting  to  the  final  polishing,  are 
variations  on  a  single  technique:  the 

The  new  Ch'Ing  emperors  adopted  Chinese  culture  and  became  avid  patrons  of  the  arts.  The  18th 
century  was  the  greatest  period  of  jade  carving  since  the  l^te  Chou.    Uniimited  supplies  of 
nephrite  were  avaiiabia  from  Khotan  and  Siberia,  and  Jadeite  from  Burma  was  Introduced. 

Items  frequently  carved  in  jade  during  the  Ch'ing  include:  large  seals  whose  inscriptions 
commemorate  an  event;  Jade  booits  dedicated  by  tlie  emperor  to  a  deceased  relative;  dinnerware 
for  the  very  wealthy;  musical  instruments,  such  as  chimes,  flutes,  and  bells;  objects  used  in  the 
study  of  the  scholar-official,  such  as  bars  to  fasten  and  hold  handscrolls  open,  inlistones  used  for 
grinding  ink,  desk  holders  for  water,  boxes  to  hold  vermillion  used  in  applying  seals,  brush 
holders,  and  decorative  desk  screens;  small  carvings  of  humans  and  animals  having  symbolic 
connotations;  bowls  in  matched  pairs;  snuff  bottles;  hairpins  and  dome-shaped  carvings  worn  in 
the  elaborate  coiffures  of  Chinese  noblewomen;  belt  hooks;  pendants,  toggles  and  knot-openers; 
thin  plaques  mounted  as  belt  buckles;  incense  burners;  and  traditional  ritual  forms  of  blades 
and  pi  disks. 

Below,  left,  duck  on  lotus  leaf  connoting  marital  fidelity  and  happiness;  snuff  bottle  depicting  Lui 
Ha!,  the  patron  of  commerce,  luring  a  greedy  toad  out  of  a  well  with  a  string  of  gold  coins; 
right,  hair  ornament;  cup  carved  to  represent  peach  of  immortality. 


Photos:  top,  cutting  large  block  of  jade  with  wire 
saw;  telt,  Initial  forming  of  jade  Into  a  shape  using 
a  cutting  wheel;  right,  polishing  a  jade  carving. 

abrading  of  the  surface  of  the  stone 
with  drills  and  saws  edged  with  an 
abrasive  paste.  The  traditional  abrasive 
consisted  of  sand  or  crushed  garnets 
and  quartz  moistened  with  water.  A 
finer  powder,  called  pao  yao,  is  used 
for  the  final  polishing.  In  the  20th 
century  the  industrial  abrasive 
carborundum  has  become  popular. 

The  drills,  cutting  wheels,  polishing 
disks,  and  gouges  are  all  operated  in 
a  rotary  fashion,  either  mounted  on  a 
bow  or  driven  by  treadles.  In  recent 
years  electricity  has  come  into  use  in 
some  workshops. 

It  is  difficult  to  imagine  the  arduous 
process  traditionally  used  by  the 
Chinese  in  working  jade.  Most  early 
carvings  are  flat  and  thin,  since 
pebbles  and  boulders  were  sliced  up 
to  get  the  most  use  from  the  expensive 
material.  The  cutting  was  done  with  a 
wire  saw;  two  men  worked  the  saw 
while  a  third  fed  the  abrasive  paste 
into  the  cut.  In  the  earliest  days  of 
jade  carving,  this  process  was 
accomplished  with  stone  blades  not 
much  harder  than  the  jade  itself.  The 
cut  was  usually  made  from  both  sides 
toward  the  center,  and  the  jade  was 
broken  off  along  the  remaining  narrow 
line,  leaving  a  ridge.  Cutting  could  also 
be  done  with  rotary  wheel  blades, 
which  often  left  identifying  marks. 

Holes  were  formed  by  using  hollow 
tubular  drills,  again  in  conjunction  with 
an  abrasive.  The  holes  were  most  often 
drilled  from  two  sides  toward  the  center. 

After  the  jade  had  been  sliced  and 
shaped,  decoration  was  incised  with  a 
variety  of  small  drills  and  gouges. 
Modern  drills  are  generally  mounted  on 
a  frame  and  powered  by  a  foot-treadle; 
the  jade  is  held  up  to  the  drill  and 
moved  around.  The  finished  carving  is 
then  polished  with  fine  grinding  wheels 
and  the  pao  yao  abrasive. 

The  rarity,  high  price,  and  hardness  of 
jade — the  very  qualities  which  make  it 
so  prized  by  the  Chinese — also  make  it 



difficult  to  work  with  and  expensive  to 
buy.  For  this  reason  a  large  number  of 
other  materials  which  share  some  of 
the  qualities  of  jade  are  carved  as 
substitutes.  These  minerals  are  all 
softer  than  jade,  and  cheaper,  since 
they  are  found  in  China  proper.  The 
most  common  substitute  materials  are 
serpentine,  steatite  (soapstone), 
prophyllite,  and  glass.  Far  from 
despised  by  the  Chinese,  they  are 
often  called  varieties  of  yu,  of  which 
nephrite  is  merely  the  finest  type. 

These  materials  can  generally  be 
distinguished  from  true  jade  visually. 
They  fend  to  lack  the  characteristic 
sheen  of  jade.  Glass  can  approximate 
the  appearance  of  jadeite  but  is  usually 
more  translucent;  small  bubbles  can 
often  be  seen  in  the  glass.  Another 
simple  test  is  to  scratch  the  carving 
with  a  steel  knife-blade.  Steel  will  not 
scratch  nephrite  or  jadeite  (providing 
that  the  jade  is  not  leached  or  badly 
weathered)  but  will  scratch  most 
substitute  materials.  Positive 
identification,  however,  can  only  be 
made  by  the  X-ray  diffraction  method. 

Landscape  scenes  were  popular  subjects  in  Ch'ing  Jade  carvings.  Scholars  often  appear  in 
these  jade  landscape  scenes  and  thus  are  associated  with  both  long  life  and  the  traditional  ideal 
of  retreat  into  nature.  The  scene  from  a  brush  holder  here  of  Sil>erian  nephrite  ("spinach  jade") 
depicts  scholars  gathering  to  drinit  wine  and  compose  poetry  In  the  mountains. 

Spurred  by  internal  dissatisfaction  and  foreign  support,  revolts  against  the  decadent  Ch'ing 
emperors  broke  out,  and  the  dynasty  fell  in  1912,  when  a  republic  was  established.   Mao  Tse-tung 
gained  control  during  the  1940s,  driving  out  the  Japanese  invaders  and  forcing  Chiang  Kai-shel( 
to  flee  to  Taiwan  in  1949. 

Jade  carvers  were  organized  Into  cooperatives  in  1953;  in  1959  there  were  1,400  craftsmen  in  the 
Pelting  Jade  Studios.  The  introduction  of  the  diamond  point,  the  industrial  abrasive  carborundum, 
and  electricity  (in  1958)  have  facilitated  the  carving  process  and  encouraged  elaborate 
workmanship  and  hard  glassy  polishes. 

The  making  of  traditional  forms  such  as  belthooks,  buckles,  dishes,  and  desk  ornaments  has 
continued  into  the  modern  period,  but  the  effects  of  modern  methods  are  apparent  in  the 
elaborate  undercutting,  high  relief,  and  high  polish.  The  large  disk  shown  here  Is  one  of  a  pair 
of  desk  screens  carved  of  Siberian  nephrite.  An  inscription  on  the  top  dates  the  screen  to  the 
reign  of  the  Ch'ien  Lung  Emperor  (1736-1795),  but  the  style  and  treatment  are  modern. 

Louise  Yuhas  is  a  doctoral  candidate  in 
Chinese  art  tiistory  at  the  University  of 
Michigan.  She  has  worked  as  a  consultant 
to  Field  Museum's  Department  of 
Anthropology  since  1969. 

Thus,  tlie  carving  of  the  "fairest  of  stones"  by  the  Chinese  spans  over  4,000  year*  and  conilnuM 
today,  combining  the  use  of  modern  materials  and  age-old  techniques. 



Is  it 

really  jade 
or  not? 

Edward  J.  Olsen 

When  questions  regarding  jade  are 
presented  to  a  mineralogist  a  number 
of  small  but  perplexing  problems  arise. 
Probably  the  question  that  comes  up 
most  often  is  the  one  of  authenticity. 
The  truth  is,  whether  a  given  piece  of 
jade  is  truly  jade  is  not  a  mineralogical 
question  but  a  question  of 
archaeological  definition.  Because  the 
term  jade  is  not  a  mineralogical  word 
and  does  not  have  a  precise 
mineralogical  definition,  the  mineralogist 
is  willing  to  accept  anything  the 
archaeologist  defines  as  jade  on  the 
basis  of  whatever  archaeological 
standards  he  chooses  to  use.  Thus,  as 
a  whimsical  example,  if  archaeological 
study  were  to  turn  up  the  heretofore 
unrecorded  fact  that  the  craftsmen  of 
China  have,  for  ten  centuries,  regarded 
carved  green  soap  with  the  same  high 
esteem  as  carved  green  rocks,  and  the 
Chinese  refer  to  both  with  the  same 
word,  yu  (jade),  then  by 
archaeological  definition  the  green 
soap  is  jade  also.  To  the  mineralogist 
it  doesn't  matter  in  the  least  what 
archaeologists  accept  as  jade,  but  the 

fact  that  they  accept  a  good  deal  of 
different  mineralogical  material  as  jade 
makes  it  hard  for  the  mineralogist 
attempting  to  ferret  out  fakes. 

First  off  one  thing  must  be  made  clear. 
The  materials  accepted  as  jade  are  not 
minerals  in  the  strict  sense,  but  rocks. 
A  rock  is  an  aggregation  of  grains  of 
one  or  more  minerals.  For  tens  of 
centuries  the  finest  Chinese  jade 
consisted  of  a  type  of  rock  that  is 
made  up  almost  entirely  of  grains  of 
the  mineral  actinolite.  Actinolite 
characteristically  occurs  in  the  form  of 
needle-shaped  grains.  When  these  are 
microscopically  small  and  tightly 
interlocked,  then  the  actinolite  rock  is 
called  jade.  The  mineral  actinolite 
varies  somewhat  in  its  chemical 
composition:  when  it  contains  a 
moderate  amount  of  iron,  its  color  is 
medium  to  dark  green;  when  it  is 
completely  free  of  iron,  it  is  white.  The 
special  mineralogical  name  for  such 
iron-free  actinolite  is  tremolite;  the 
whole  range  of  such  minerals  is  called 
the  tremolite-actinolite  series.  Thus, 
this  rock  can  range  in  color  from  dark 
green  to  white.  Archaeologists  accept 
this  range  of  colors  in  these  rocks 
as  jade. 

It  is  rare  for  an  actinolite  rock  to 
consist  entirely  of  grains  of  only  the 
one  mineral.  It  commonly  has  grains  of 
black  magnetite,  white  quartz,  white 
feldspar,  white  calcite,  and  even  small 
amounts  of  green  mica-like  minerals. 
Some  of  the  finest  jade  carvings  show 
black  streaks  of  magnetite  in  them. 
The  question  then  arises,  how  much  of 
what  impurities  will  be  tolerated  and 
still  permit  a  designation  as  jade?  The 
answer  to  this  is  clearly  an  arbitrary 
matter  of  taste,  esthetics,  and  tradition. 

Since  this  form  of  jade  is  comprised 
of  microscopic  interlocking  needles  of 
actinolite  (or  tremolite),  what  does  one 
do  when  the  needles  are  so  large 
they  are  no  longer  microscopic?  What 
does  one  call  a  pure  actinolite  rock  in 
which  the  green  needles  are  an  eighth 
of  an  inch  long  and  clearly  visible? 
If  a  fine-grained  actinolite  rock  is  jade, 
why  not  a  coarser-grained  one?  Again 
it  is  a  matter  of  esthetics.  In  both 
these  cases,  impurities  and  grain-size, 
the  mineralogist  can  offer  no  answer. 

About  two  centuries  ago  a  new  source 
of  attractive  green  rock  (also  sometimes 
gray,  or  even  blue)  was  discovered 
close  to  China  in  Burma.  It  was  hard 
like  jade,  usually  green  like  jade,  and 
could  be  worked  into  pleasing  carvings. 
Archaeological  usage  caused  it  to 
enter  the  ranks  as  jade.  Mineralogically, 
however,  this  material  is  an  entirely 
different  rock,  one  composed  of 
interlocking  microscopic  grains  of  a 
different  mineral  called  jadelte.  In  fact, 
the  mineral  acquired  its  name  because 
of  the  use  of  the  rock  in  which 
it  is  found.  This  rock  too  possesses 
problems  relative  to  acceptable 
impurities  and  size  of  mineral  grains. 
Thus  two  materials  are  accepted,  by 
archaeological  definition,  as  jade.  In 
the  jade  business  these  are  usually 
distinguished  by  modifying  words.  The 
original  actinolite  rock  is  referred  to 
as  nephrite  jade,  and  the  jadeite  rock 
as  jadeite  jade.  The  buyer  of  an 
object  advertised  as  jade  does  not 
usually  know  which  type  he  is  getting. 
Both  are  jade;  the  value  depends 
mostly  on  the  age  of  the  piece, 
craftsmanship,  size,  and  archaeological 
factors.  In  general,  the  majority  of 
pieces  one  sees  sold  are  made  from 
nephrite  jade  simply  because  it  is  a 
vastly  more  abundant  rock  type  than 
jadeite  rock  in  the  earth's  crust. 

If  only  these  two  kinds  of  rocks  were 
ever  worked  as  jade,  mineralogical 
problems  would  be  relatively  limited  to 
those  mentioned  earlier.  But  native 
craftsmen  over  the  centuries  have, 
unfortunately,  not  always  been 
discriminating  in  their  choices  of 
materials.  A  large  variety  of  other  rocks 
and  minerals  have  also  been  utilized: 
such  green  rocks  as  serpentinite, 
metamorphosed  basaltic  lavas  (called 
greenstone),  soapstone,  hard  clays,  and 
such  minerals  as  green  chalcedony 
and  uvarovite  garnet  have  shown  up 
in  some  old  collections.  In  some  cases 
the  craftsman  may  have  had  it  in 
mind  to  defraud;  however,  in  most 
instances  lack  of  knowledge  or  lack  of 
discrimination  led  to  the  use  of  any 
workable  attractive  green  rock  or 
mineral  that  would  take  a  good  polish. 
In  more  recent  times  dyed  glass  has 
been  used  extensively  to  simulate 
jade  in  an  obvious  attempt  to 



defraud.  Frequently  even  the  seller  is 
unaware  he  Is  selling  glass.  A  fairly 
common  practice  in  costume  jewelry  is 
to  mix  the  pieces  with  part  of  the 
object  made  of  jade  (usually  nephrite) 
and  part  of  it  made  from  glass, 
soapstone,  or  serpentinite  chosen 
(or  dyed)  to  provide  closely  matched 
color.  Thus  such  a  piece  can  be  sold 
as  "jade,"  which  lies  just  inside  the 
border  of  truth. 

For  a  mineralogist  to  pass  on  the 
authenticity  of  a  particular  piece,  in 
most  cases  it  comes  down  to 
determining  if  it  consists  mainly  of 
either  actinolite  or  jadeite.  The  first 
simple  test  is  to  scratch  it  with  a 
common  steel  needle.  Neither  of 
these  materials  can  be  scratched; 
however,  "look-alikes"  such  as 
serpentine,  soapstone,  and  greenstone 
are  readily  scratched.  Unfortunately, 
chalcedony  and  hard  lead  glass  are  not 
scratched.  These  can  sometimes  be 
distinguished  from  jades  by  optical 
tests.  A  severe  limitation  in  applying 
such  a  test  is  that  it  is  usually  not 
possible  to  obtain  a  chip  of  a 
specimen  on  which  to  work.  A  valuable 
carving  cannot  be  sampled  in  a 
cavalier  manrier  with  hammer  and 
chisel.  It  is  usually  necessary  to 
sample  from  down  inside  a  carved 
hole  or  depression,  or  on  some 
inconspicuous  spot  on  the  bottom  of 
the  object,  if  it  has  a  bottom  surface 
at  all.  Frequently,  especially  with  small 
objects,  the  piece  is  fully  polished  on 
all  sides  and  a  sample  removed  from 
anywhere  will  ruin  its  appearance. 

As  a  general  practice  the  quickest 
and  safest  method  is  X-ray  diffraction. 
This  method  is  based  on  the  fact 
that  each  kind  of  mineral  has  a 
characteristic  chemical  composition 
and  the  atoms  of  the  chemical 
elements  are  arranged  in  regular 
three-dimensional  symmetrical  patterns. 
X-rays  passing  through  such  a  three 
dimensional  network  are  diverted 
(bent)  into  patterns  of  rays  that  reflect 
the  characteristic  arrangement  of  the 
atoms  in  the  mineral.  Each  mineral 
has,  in  a  sense,  an  X-ray  "fingerprint" 
which  permits  its  definite  identification. 
For  large  objects,  a  minute  amount 
can  be  scratched  from  an 

inconspicuous  spot  and  mounted  for 
X-raying.  Small  objects  often  can  be 
fitted  directly  into  the  X-ray  sample 
holder  and  X-rayed  as  a  whole, 
unscathed.  Thus  the  real  jades  and  the 
"look  alikes"  can  be  readily 
distinguished.  In  preparing  objects  for 
installation  in  the  new  John  L.  and 
Helen  Kellogg  Hall  of  Jades,  over 
one  hundred  pieces  were  checked  by 
X-ray.  These  were  chosen  for 
examination  because  of  questions 
regarding  their  authenticity.  A 
relatively  small  percentage  turned  out 
to  be  non-jades,  and  these  were 
omitted  from  the  exhibit  collection. 

It  would  appear  that  the  X-ray  method 
solves  many  problems.  Unfortunately, 
archaeological  acceptance  makes  for 
other  difficulties.  Long  ago  Chinese 
noblemen  frequently  had  nephrite  jade 
objects  buried  with  them  at  their 
funerals.  Soil  acids  and  moisture  acted 
slowly  on  these  objects  to  gradually 
alter  their  composition  and  form 
different  minerals  of  them.  This 
alteration  may  form  only  over  the 
outside  as  a  coating,  or  it  may 
completely  work  its  way  through  an 
object,  especially  if  it  is  small.  When 
such  pieces  were  dug  up,  centuries 
later,  they  were  found  to  be  quite 
pleasing  in  appearance.  They  had 
become  an  off-white  color  and 
resembled  polished  bone  material. 
These  objects  became  prized  and  it  is 
logical  that  someone  should 
experiment  in  an  attempt  to  learn  how 
to  speed  up  this  slow  alteration 
process.  It  was  soon  discovered  that 
nephrite  jade  could  be  converted  to 
this  appearance  if  it  were  subjected 
to  intense  heating.  Today  both  of  these 
forms  of  bone  jade  are  accepted  as 
jade;  however,  neither  one  is  nephrite 
jade  any  longer.  Depending  on  the 
process,  long-term  burial  or  short-term 
heating,  two  different  rocks  result 
made  of  several  entirely  different 
minerals.  They  are,  nevertheless, 
considered  to  be  jades  also. 

These  altered  materials  complicate 
matters.  Both  consist  of  mixtures  of 
several  minerals  in  varying  proportions 
depending  on  such  factors  as 
temperature  and  time.  It  is  not  possible 
to  distinguish  these  rocks  formed  by 

the  alteration  of  original  jade  from  the 
same  kind  of  rocks  formed  by  other 
processes  from  original  material  that 
was  not  jade  at  all.  Thus  for  these 
materials  archaeological  definition 
generally  confounds  mineralogical 

The  authentication  of  jade  is  clearly 
not  as  straightforward  as  one  might 
imagine.  For  the  majority  of  cases 
X-raying  provides  a  simple  and 
relatively  nondestructive  method.  In  a 
small  number  of  cases  the  final 
decision  will  depend  on  what  the 
archaeologist  is  willing  to  accept. 
Probably  the  only  other  material  that 
raises  even  more  difficult  mineralogical 
questions  regarding  authenticity  is 
amber.  It  is  regrettable  that  once  man 
attaches  monetary  value  to  a  mineral 
or  rock,  problems  are  created  that  go 
outside  the  realm  of  the  mineral 

Dr.  Edward  J.  Olsen  is  curator  o1  mineralogy 
in  the  Department  of  Geology,  Field  Museum. 



It  was  Barbara  Tuchman's  book 
Stilwell  and  the  American  Experience 
in  Ctiina  1911-45  that  brought  to 
mind  the  Field  Museum's  collection  of 
pigeon  flutes  and  whistles.  She  was 
describing  Stilwell's  visit  to  Sian, 
ancient  capital  of  the  Han  and  T'ang 
dynasties,  where  he  "found  it  hard 
to  glimpse  an  idea  of  the  former 
greatness  of  the  city,  but  even  in 
decline  the  people  of  Sian  devised 
pleasures.  They  tied  bamboo  whistles 
of  varying  pitch  to  the  tail  feathers 
of  pigeons  so  that  when  circling  In 
hundreds  overhead  the  birds  made 
the  sound  of  a  flying  pipe  organ." 

Flying  pipe  organ  indeed!  This  fanciful 
description  of  the  small  objects  on 
display  in  our  Chinese  exhibit  in  Hall 
32  made  it  seem  worthwhile  to  see 
what  Dr.  Berthold  Laufer  might  have 
said  on  the  subject  when  he  brought 
them  to  the  Museum.  (He  was  then 
associate  curator  of  East  Asian 
Ethnology;  later  curator  of  the 
Department  of  Anthropology.) 

In  the  Scientific  American  in  1908, 
Dr.  Laufer  remarked  on  the  great 
esthetic  enjoyment  the  Chinese  derived 
from  the  sound  of  this  aerial  music: 

...  we  are  wont  to  speak  of  the  Chinese 
as  sober,  practical,  and  prosaic  people 
...  but  nevertheless  they  are  by  no 
means  lacking  in  purely  emotional  matters 
of  great  attractiveness  .  .  .  [and]  even 
in  affairs  of  minor  importance  their  soul 
reveals  to  us  traits  of  poetical  quality  of  no 
small  degree  .  .  .  One  of  the  most 
curious  expressions  of  emotional  life  is  the 
application  of  whistles  to  a  flock  of  pigeons. 

charming  girls 

Virginia  straub 

These  whistles,  very  light,  weighing  hardly 
a  few  grammes,  are  attached  to  the  tails 
of  young  pigeons  soon  after  their  birth,  by 
means  of  fine  copper  wire,  so  that  when 
the  birds  fly  the  wind  flowing  through  the 
whistles  sets  them  vibrating  and  thus 
produces  an  open-air  concert,  for  the 
instruments  in  one  and  the  same  flock  are 
all  tuned  differently.  On  a  serene  day  in 
Peking,  where  these  instruments  are 

manufactured  with  great  cleverness  and 
ingenuity,  it  is  possible  to  enjoy  this  aerial 
music  while  sitting  in  one's  room. 

But  East  is  East,  and  the  West 
wasn't  always  with  them. 
A.  B.  Freeman-Mitford  had  earlier 
complained  in  his  book  The  Attache 
at  Peking:  "The  Chinese  certainly  find 
pleasure  in  what  are  to  us  very 
disagreeable  noises.  Fancy  a  flight 
of  pigeons  with  Aeolian  harps  tied  to 
their  tails!  The  first  time  I  heard  it 
above  my  head  I  thought  something 
dreadful  must  be  going  to  happen." 
He  also  wrote:  "However,  that  fancy 
has  a  practical  side  to  It,  for  it  keeps 
oft  the  hawks  which  abound  at 

Writing  at  about  the  same  time, 
toward  the  end  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  Archdeacon  John  Henry  Gray 
said  In  his  book  China  that  pigeons 
with  whistles  served  as  convoys  for 
carrier  pigeons:  "Merchants  at  Hong 
Kong  use  them  [carrier  pigeons!  In 
conveying  news  of  the  arrival  of  the 
English,  French,  or  American  mails 
to  their  partners  in  trade  at  Canton. 
To  defend  the  pigeon  during  its  flight 
from  attacks  on  the  part  of  falcons  or 
hawks,  a  whistle  is  attached  to  its  tail, 
and  the  shrill  noise  of  this  contrivance, 
as  its  bearer  flies  through  the  air, 
terrifies  the  birds  of  prey." 

A  picture  of  a  pigeon  with  a  whistle 
on  its  tail  appears  with  Elisha 
Hanson's  article  "Man's  Feathered 
Friends  of  Longest  Standing"  in  a 
1 926  National  Geographic.  Part  of  the 

caption  reads:  "When  the  bird  flies, 
the  wind  blows  through  the  whistles 
and  sets  them  vibrating.  The  Chinese 
explain  their  love  of  this  aerial  music 
by  saying  that  the  sounds  keep  the 
flock  together  and  frighten  off  birds 
of  prey." 

Dr.  Laufer  didn't  agree  with  the 
protective  theory.  According  to  him, 
"There  seems  .  .  .  little  reason  to 
believe  that  a  hungry  hawk  could  be 
induced  by  this  innocent  music  to 
keep  aloof  from  satisfying  his 
appetite;  and  this  doubtless  savors  of 
an  afterthought  which  came  up  long 
after  the  introduction  of  this  usage, 
through  the  attempt  to  give  a  rational 
and  practical  interpretation  of 
something  that  has  no  rational  origin 
whatever  .  .  ."  He  thought  it  was  not 
the  pigeon  which  profited  from  this 
practice,  but  merely  the  human  ear, 
which  liked  to  feast  on  the  wind-blown 
tunes  and  derive  esthetic  pleasure 
from  the  music — "it  seems  to  be  a 
purely  artistic  and  emotional  tendency 
that  has  given  rise  to  a  unique 
industry  and  custom  applied  to 

The  esthetic  theory  seems  to  have 
got  the  nod  also  from  a  T.  Watters, 
Esq.,  who  wrote  on  "Chinese  Notions 
about  Pigeons  and  Doves"  In  the 
Journal  of  the  North-China  Branch  of 
the  Royal  Asiatic  Society  in  1868.  He 
said,  "The  pigeons  which  fly  about 
with  whistles  attached  to  them  are 
called  pan-t'ien-chiao-jen,  mid-sky 
charming  girls."  Dr.  Laufer  translated 
the  term  as  "mid-sky  beauties." 

Then  we  find  a  theory  about  their 
origin,  which  Dr.  Laufer  had  expressed 
much  earlier,  in  a  lecture  by  Harned 
Pettus  Hoose  entitled  "Peking  Pigeons 
and  Pigeon-Flutes,"  delivered  in  1938 
to  the  College  of  Chinese  Studies  at 



the  California  College  in  China  at 
Peking.  He  said  that  the  use  of  these 
flutes  was  suggested  by  the  whistling 
arrow  invented  by  Chinese  warriors 
"countless  ages  ago"  for  signaling  by 
singing  as  it  sped  through  the  air. 
The  belief  was  that  when  the  warriors 
were  not  fighting  they  amused 
themselves  by  fastening  delicate  silver 
bells  on  the  tails  of  their  pigeons,  and 
when  this  metal  proved  to  be  too 
heavy,  they  used  bamboo  for  flutes. 
Then  squat  miniature  gourds  were 
tried,  and  found  to  produce  much 
fuller,  deeper  tones.  When  reed  and 
gourd  were  combined  and  flown 
together  the  music  was  even  more 
pleasing.  Said  Dr.  Hoose:  "It  must 
have  been  about  this  time  that  a 
pigeon-flute  maker  made  a  pair  of 
flutes,  one  smaller  than  the  other,  so 
that  the  female  pigeon  could  carry  the 
smaller  one.  To  his  delight,  he  found 
that  the  smaller  one's  note  was  higher 
than  the  larger  one's.  From  that  time 
up  to  the  present,  flutes  have  been 
made  in  pairs  and  are  known  as 
mates:  male  and  female." 

Dr.  Moose's  singing  arrow  theory  of 
origin  does  not  include  any  mention  of 
the  musical  kite,  which  Dr.  Laufer 
also  wrote  about.  He  described  it  as 
a  paper  kite  with  a  bamboo  flute 
fastened  to  the  head  so  that 
when  the  wind  struck  the  holes  of  the  flute 
.  .  .  [itl  produced  sounds  like  those  of  a 
harpsichord  .  .  .  Such  flutes  are  still  .  .  . 
used  .  .  .  They  consist  of  a  short  bamboo 
tube  closed  at  the  ends  and  provided 
with  three  apertures  .  .  .  When  the  kite  is 
flying,  the  air  .  .  .  produces  a  somewhat 
intense  and  plaintive  sound,  which  can  be 
heard  at  a  great  distance.  Sometimes  three 
or  four  of  these  bamboo  tubes  are  placed 

one  above  another  over  the  kite,  and  in 
this  case  a  very  pronounced  deep  sound 
is  produced.  Imagine  that  hundreds  of  such 
kites  may  be  released  at  a  time  and  are 
hovering  in  the  air,  and  there  is  a  veritable 
aerial  orchestra  at  play. 

According  to  Freeman-Mitford,  the 
music  of  kite  and  pigeon  was  the 
same:  "As  the  New  Year  approaches 
the  principal  amusement  in  the  streets 
is  flying  kites  ...  In  the  tail  of  the 
kite  is  placed  a  sort  of  aeolian  harp, 
such  as  I  once  told  you  the  Chinese 
attach  to  their  pigeons." 

Dr.  Hoose  said  in  1938  that  there 
were  still  in  existence  some  flutes 
made  by  six  of  the  most  famous  flute 
makers,  who  lived  in  the  Ch'ing 
dynasty  and  "whose  skill  has  never 
been  equalled."  He  added,  "Of 
course,  none  of  these  old  masters 
made  pigeon-flutes  for  anyone  but 
themselves  and  certainly  they  never 
sold  them.  The  business  of  selling 
flutes  is  quite  modern." 

Two  general  types  are  described  by 
Dr.  Hoose,  gourd  flutes  and  bamboo 
flutes.  "These  two  types  are  often 
combined  .  .  .  and  with  both  types  is 
used  a  very  slender  reed  with  which 
small  supplementary  flutes  are  made. 
The  former  can  be  made  of  three 
types  of  gourd." 

When  making  the  flute,  the  top  of  the 
gourd  is  cut  off,  leaving  a  rounded 
sounding  box,  wi.  ch  is  then  capped  by  a 
part  of  the  top  that  has  been  shaped  to 
produce  flute-lips.  This  main  flute  Is 
supplemented  with  several  much  smaller 
ones  that  are  fashioned  of  reed,  glued  to 
the  sides  and  top  of  the  main  body. 
A  bone  or  bamboo  handle  is  attached  to  the 
bottom,  for  the  purpose  of  fastening  the 

flute  to  the  pigeon's  tail.  Throughout  this 
process  exact  measurements  are  necessary 
in  order  to  assure  a  correct  angle  against 
the  wind,  and  a  good  tone.  At  this  point, 
the  artist  carves  his  surname  on  the  bottom 
of  the  flute  and  then  paints  the  whole 
surface  with  "Chinese  ink."  .  .  .  When  this 
has  dried,  shelac  is  applied  on  both  the 
inner  and  outer  surfaces  of  the  gourd. 
Sometimes  both  the  male  and  female  voices 
are  combined  in  one  flute,  by  cutting  the 
gourd  in  half,  inserting  a  cardboard 
partition,  and  gluing  it  together  again.  No 
gourd  flute  can  be  made  larger  than  two 
inches  across  the  top,  as  pigeons  are 
incapable  of  carrying  a  flute  any  heavier. . . . 

The  material  for  the  bamboo  flutes  comes 
from  South  China,  while  the  delicate  reeds 
are  grown  outside  this  city  IPeking].  The 
bamboo  and  reeds  are  combined  in  many 
arrangements,  resembling  the  Pan-pipes  or 
a  pipe-organ.  These  flutes  are  attached  to 
the  pigeons'  tails  by  a  holder  at  the  bottom, 
and  a  thread  sewn  through,  and 
perpendicular  to,  the  bird's  two  middle 
tail-feathers  at  a  point  exactly  a 
fore-finger's  distance  from  the  bird's  body. 
The  holder  is  thrust  through  the  space 
between  the  thread  and  the  bird's  body, 
and  is  held  in  place  by  a  small  wire  ring 
hung  on  the  end  of  the  holder  after  it  has 
been  thrust  between  the  thread  and  the 
body  of  the  bird. 

Whether  this  charming  practice  is  still 
followed  under  the  austerity  of  the 
People's  Republic  we  don't  know,  but 
at  least  during  World  War  II  the  flutes 
were  still  available.  In  his  1942  book 
/  Flew  for  China,  Captain  Royal 
Leonard,  personal  pilot  for  Chiang 
Kai-shek,  described  the  town  of 
Urumchi,  now  known  as  Wulumuchi, 
in  Sinkiang  province:  "The  distinctive 
quality  of  Urumchi  lay  in  its  sound. 
.  .  .  The  thousands  of  pigeons 
constantly  flying  overhead  have 
bamboo  wind  whistles  attached  to 
their  tails.  Each  is  made  to  sound  a 
different  note;  some  are  tremolo  and 
high-pitched,  others  equal  the  deep 
bass  of  an  organ.  Most  of  them  carry 
a  large  harmonized  cluster  of  three  or 
four  .  .  ."  And  he  also  remarked: 
"According  to  my  hobby,  I  picked  up 
a  knickknack  representing  a  product 
for  which  the  city  was  famous.  .  .  . 
At  Lanchow  1  bought  pigeon 
whistles  .  .  ." 

Now  the  next  time  Henry  Kissinger 
goes  to  China,  if  he  could  do  some 
shopping  .  .  . 

Virginia  Straub  is  secretary  of  tlie  Women's 
Board,  Field  l^useum. 



Archaeological  Discoveries  in 

Dr.  Paul  Martin  holds  sculpture  of  a  bear 
discovered  in  a  Kiva  in  Arizona. 

The  story  of  the  early  inhabitants  of  the 
Southwest  is  gradually  being  unfolded 
through  a  series  of  archaeological 
excavations  conducted  in  Hay  Hollow  Valley, 
Arizona  by  Dr.  Paul  S.  Martin,  chairman 
emeritus  of  anthropology  at  Field  Museum  of 
Natural  History.  This  summer,  twelve  high 
ability  college  sophomores  and  juniors  from 
various  parts  of  the  country  participated  in 
the  Museum's  ten-week  program  "New 
Perspectives  in  Archaeology,"  supported  by 
the  National  Science  Foundation. 

The  sites  that  have  been  continuously 
excavated  and  studied  during  the  past  nine 
years  are  located  on  a  72,000  acre  ranch 
near  Vernon,  Arizona  owned  by  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  James  Carter.  Dr.  Martin  believes  that 
these  sites  were  occupied  from 
approximately  1000  B.C.  to  1500  A.D. 

This  year,  twenty-five  additional  rooms  of  a 
one-level  pueblo  were  found,  in  addition  to 
the  twelve  uncovered  last  year.  Perhaps  as 
many  as  thirty  to  fifty  men,  women  and 
children,  culturally  related  to  the  Hop!, 

occupied  these  dwellings.  The  pueblo  is 
estimated  to  date  from  around  1000  or 
1100  A.D. 

While  making  a  test  trench,  the 
archaeological  team  stumbled  onto  a  kiva 
about  14  feet  square  at  a  level  about  10 
feet  below  the  surface.  The  floor  of  the  kiva 
was  inlaid  with  sandstone  slabs  to  form  a 
thunderbird  design. 

One  of  the  unusual  discoveries  this  year  is 
a  sculpture  of  a  bear,  carved  from 
reddish-brown  sandstone,  found  on  the  floor 
of  the  kiva.  Dr.  Martin  surmises  it  may  have 
originally  been  set  into  a  wall  and  could 
indicate  a  bear  clan.  Another  carving  found 
at  the  site  has  a  concave,  bowl-shaped 
surface  on  one  side  and  a  representation 
of  a  bear  on  the  other. 

A  preliminary  report  on  this  year's  field 
work  is  being  prepared  by  Dr.  Martin  and 
five  staff  members,  which  will  be  available 
in  printed  form  by  the  end  of  the  year.  His 
contribution  will  be  based  on  the  philosophy 
of  education,  emphasizing  practical  and 
theoretical  archaeology,  which  is  employed 
on  the  "New  Perspectives  in  Archaeology" 

Mario  Villa 

Mario  Villa,  tanner  in  the  Department  of 
Zoology,  passed  away  September  30.  He 
was  48  and  had  been  with  the  Museum 
since  1956.  Mario  was  trained  by  his  father, 
Dominick,  who  retired  from  the  Museum's 
staff  in  1961.  He  worked  with  the  skins  of 
animals  from  many  parts  of  the  wortd  and 
became  an  expert  in  his  field.  He  will  be 
greatly  missed. 

Gift  from  Museu  de  Angola 

Backyard  Safari 

Children  in  the  4th,  5th,  and  6th  grades 
especially  are  invited  on  a  "Backyard 
Safari"  each  Sunday  at  8:00  a.m.  on 
WBBM-TV  (Channel  2).  This  unique  series 
of  half-hour  programs  focuses  on  the 
natural  history  of  the  Chicago  area.  Future 
programs  will  explore:  November  14,  Trees 
in  Fall;  November  21,  Lake  Michigan  in 
Wintertime;  November  28,  The  Chicago 
River;  and  December  5,  Microscopic  World 
of  House  Dust. 

"Backyard  Safari"  is  produced 
cooperatively  by  WBBM-TV,  the  Chicago 
Board  of  Education,  and  Field  Museum. 

Recent  Grants 

A  grant  of  $8,200  has  been  awarded  Field 
Museum  by  the  National  Aeronautics  and 
Space  Administration  for  support  of  research 
entitled  "Geochemistry  of  Silicate  and 
Phosphate  Phases  in  Iron  Meteorites."  The 
grant,  to  run  approximately  one  year,  will 
enable  Dr.  Edward  J.  Olsen,  curator  of 
mineralogy,  to  make  a  study  of  the  chemistry 
of  silicate  minerals  that  occur  in  very  minor 
amounts  inside  iron  meteorites.  These  have 
largely  been  ignored  over  the  past  fifty  years 
and  it  is  believed  they  may  yield  valuable 
new  information. 

The  National  Endowment  for  the  Arts  has 
awarded  $8,000  to  Field  Museum  for  costs 
of  an  exhibition  of  aboriginal  art,  under  the 
direction  of  Dr.  Phillip  H.  Lewis,  curator  of 
primitive  art  and  Melanesian  ethnology.  The 
exhibit,  "The  Art  of  Arnhem  Land,"  is 
scheduled  from  January  20  through 
September  10,  1972. 

E.  Leiand  Webber,  director  of  Field  Museum  (left)  accepts  a  fiandsome  Angolan  mask  from  Dr.  Mesquitela 
Lima,  director  of  Museu  de  Angola,  Luanda,  Angola,  Africa.  The  mask  is  a  gift  to  Field  Museum  from  tfie 
Museu  de  Angola. 





Opens  November  10 
Chinese  jades — a  permanent  exhibit  of 
Field  Museum's  collection,  in  the  John  L. 
and  Helen  Kellogg  Hall  of  Jades,  arranged 
chronologically  from  the  Neolithic  period 
(about  2500-1500  B.C.)  through  the  Ch'ing 
Dynasty  (1644-1912  A.D.)  The  installation 
is  made  possible  through  a  generous  gift 
from  Mrs.  Kellogg.  Porcelains,  bronzes, 
ceramics,  and  poetry  supplement  the  jades, 
putting  them  into  proper  historical 
perspective  to  show  Uovi  the  symbolism  of 
a  dynastic  period  carried  through  in  various 
art  forms.  Hall  30. 

Begins  November  10 

Studies  in  Jade,  a  selection  of  books  from 
Field  Museum's  library,  featured  in  the 
South  Lounge  to  coincide  with  the  opening 
of  the  new  Hall  of  Jades.  Included  are 
The  Bishop  Collection,  Investigations  and 
Studies  in  Jade,  in  two  volumes,  and 
Chinese  Jade  Carvings  ol  the  XVIth  to 
the  XlXth  Centuries  in  the  Collection  ol 
Mrs.  Georg  Vetlesen,  in  three  volumes.  On 
display  through  January  9,  1972. 


Color  in  Nature,  an  exhibit  examining  the 
nature  and  variety  of  color  in  the  physical 
and  living  world,  and  how  it  functions  in 
plants  and  animals.  It  focuses  on  the  many 
roles  of  color,  as  in  mimicry,  camouflage, 
warning,  sexual  recognition  and  selection, 
energy  channeling,  and  vitamin  production, 
using  Museum  specimens  as  examples. 
Continues  indefinitely.  Hall  25. 

Tlie  Afro-American  Styie,  From  the  Design 
Works  of  Bedford-Stuyvesant,  an  exhibit  of 
textiles  blending  classical  African  motifs 
and  contemporary  design.  The  original 
Field  Museum  Benin  artifacts  which  inspired 
many  of  the  designs  are  also  shown. 
Financial  assistance  for  the  exhibit  was 
received  from  the  CNA  Foundation,  Chicago, 
and  the  Illinois  Arts  Council,  a  state 
agency.  Through  December  31.  Hall  9. 


9  a.m.  to  4  p.m.  Saturday  through  Thursday: 

9  a.m.  to  9  p.m.  Friday;  9  a.m.  to  5  p.m.  Saturday 

and  Sunday. 

The  Museum  Library  Is  open  9  a.m.  to  4:00  p.m. 

Monday  through  Friday.  Please  obtain  pass  at 

reception  desk,  main  floor  north. 

Joiin  James  Audubon's  elephant  folio, 
The  Birds  ol  America,  on  display  in  the 
North  Lounge.  A  different  plate  from  the 
rare,  first-edition  volumes  is  featured 
each  day. 

Reid  Museum's  75t>i  Anniversary  Exhibit 

continues  indefinitely.  "A  Sense  of  Wonder" 
offers  thought-provoking  prose  and  poetry 
associated  with  physical,  biological,  and 
cultural  aspects  of  nature;  "A  Sense  of 
History"  presents  a  graphic  portrayal  of 
the  Museum's  past;  and  "A  Sense  of 
Discovery"  shows  examples  of  research 
conducted  by  Museum  scientists.  Hall  3. 

Children's  Programs 

Through  November  30 

"Between  the  Tides,"  Fall  Journey  for 
Children,  takes  them  hunting  for  exotic  and 
beautiful  sea  creatures  in  the  Museum 
exhibit  areas.  All  youngsters  who  can  read 
and  write  are  welcome  to  join  in  the 
activity.  Journey  sheets  are  available  at 
Museum  entrances. 

Film  Program 

"Queen  of  Cascades,"  free  wildlife  film 
offered  by  the  Illinois  Audubon  Society  at 
2:30  p.m.,  November  28,  in  the  James 
Simpson  Theatre. 

Continues  indefinitely 
Free  Natural  IHistory  Film  "Patterns  for 
Survival"  (A  Study  of  Mimicry)  presented 
at  11  a.m.  and  1  p.m.  on  Saturdays  and 
11  a.m.,  1  p.m.,  and  3  p.m.  on  Sundays 
in  the  second  floor  Meeting  Room.  The 

half-hour  film  offers  an  overall  view  of 
protective  coloration  in  insects  and  provides 
visitors  with  an  insight  into  the  "Color  in 
Nature"  exhibit. 

Fail  Film-Lecture  Series,  2:30  p  m. 
Saturdays  in  the  James  Simpson  Theatre: 

November  13 — "Camera  Safari  to  Africa," 
narrated  by  Col.  John  D.  Craig.  A  film  tour 
of  important  game  parks  to  see  the  wildlife 
and  scenic  wonders 

November  20 — "The  Two  Worlds  of  Berlin," 
narrated  by  Arthur  F.  Wilson.  A  timely 
biographical  sketch  on  film  of  a  city  and 
its  people  from  World  War  II  to  the  present. 

November  27 — "Micronesia,"  narrated  by 
C.  P.  Lyons.  A  film  story  about  a  group  of 
tiny  islands  in  the  Western  Pacific  and  the 
colorful  inhabitants  who  still  retain  their 
picturesque  customs  and  traditions. 

Coming  in  December 

"Faces  of  Africa,"  Winter  Journey  for 
Children,  begins  December  1.  Youngsters 
test  their  powers  of  observation  by 
answering  written  questions  and  making 
sketches  of  African  masks  in  Museum 
exhibit  areas  while  on  a  self-guided  tour. 
All  boys  and  girls  who  can  read  and  write 
may  participate.  Journey  sheets  are 
available  at  Museum  entrances.  Through 
February  29,  1972. 

A  Reminder 

Visits  to  Field  Museum  earlier  in  the  day  are 
recommended  for  Sundays  when  Chicago 
Bears  home  games  are  scheduled  in 
Soldier  Field. 

Because  of  the  afternoon  games,  the 
Southeast  parking  facilities  will  be  filled, 
and  the  North  lot  reserved  for  Museum 
guests  undoubtedly  strained  to  capacity. 
Dates  are:  November  7,  14,  and  21,  and 
December  19. 

A  Field  Museum  membership  would  be  a  special  idnd  of  Holiday  gift  for  some  of  those 
special  people  you  want  to  remember  at  this  season.  They  would  appreciate  your 
thoughtfulness  not  just  once  but  all  through  the  year.  For  each  gift  membership  we  will 
send  an  announcement  greeting  card  in  your  name  and  portfolio  of  four  color  reproduc- 
tions of  bird  paintings  done  by  the  distinguished  American  artist  Lx>uis  Agassiz  Fuertes 
on  a  Field  Museum  expedition  to  East  Africa. 

Clip  and  mall  to  Flold  MuMum  ol  Natural  Hlatoiy,  RooMvalt  Rd.  at  Lak*  Shor*  Driva,  Chicago,  III.  6060S 

Please  send  the  following  Gift  Membership  Q  Check  enclosed  payable  to  Field  Museum, 

Q  Annual  $15    [J  Associate  $150  Q  LHe  $500        Q  Please  bill  me  as  follows: 
In  my  name  to: 

Gift  recipient's  nam* 

My  nam* 



City  State  Zip  City  Stats 

D  Send  bird  prints  to  gilt  recipient  G  Send  bird  print*  to  me 

Please  put  infonnatlon  for  additional  gift  memberships  on  a  separate  sheet 


Volume  42,  Number  11       December  1971 

Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 



Volume  42,  Number  11 
December  1971 

Eighteenth  century  engraving  ol  Christmas  rose 
(Helleborus  niger)  from  which  cover  design 
was  made. 

2   The  Christinas  Rose 

W.  Peyton  Fawcett 

many  legendary — and  some  real — powers  have  been 

attributed  to  a  plant  once  associated  with  Christmas 

5  Hanukkah 

Maurice  I.  Kliers 

a  rabbi  explains  the  background  of  this  Jewish 
celebration  and  the  themes  symbolized — religious 
freedom  and  optimism 

6  Wang  Ch'uan  chen  chi 

Alice  Schneider 

the  historical  significance  of  a  prize  specimen  in 
Field  Museum's  collection  of  Chinese  rubbings 
is  discussed 

1 1  A  Latin  American  Christmas 

Terua  Williams 

a  letter  sharing  the  familiar  as  well  as  exotic 

flavor  of  a  Christmas  far  from  home 

12  Shall  We  Inherit  the  Whirlwind? 

John  Clark 

a  scientist  considers  what  effects  tampering  with 

hurricanes  might  have  on  Earth's  total  climatic  patterns 

14    Field  Briefs 

16    Book  Reviews 


Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 
Director,  E.  Leland  Webber 

Editor  Joyce  Zibro;  Associate  Editor  Elizabeth  Munger;  Staff  Writer  Madge  Jacobs;  Production  Russ  Becker;  Photography  John  Bayalis, 
Fred  Huysmans;  Cover  design  by  Samuel  Grove. 

The  Bulletin  Is  published  monthly  except  August  by  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois 
60605.  Subscriptions:  $6  a  year;  $3  a  year  for  schools.  Members  of  the  Museum  subscribe  through  Museum  membership.  Opinions  expressed 
by  authors  are  their  own  and  do  not  necessarily  reflect  the  policy  of  Field  Museum.  Unsolicited  manuscripts  are  welcome.  Printed  by  Field 
Museum  Press.  Application  to  mall  at  second-class  postage  rates  is  ponding  at  Chicago,  Illinois.  Postmaster:  Please  send  form  3579  to  Field 
Museum  of  Natural  History,  Roosevelt  Road  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  Illinois  60605. 



®1|0  Cl|rtstntas  ^ose        m,  p^yton  jrauic^tt 

Preserved  in  one  of  the  medieval 
Nativity  plays  is  the  legend  of  the  origin 
of  a  flower  long  associated  with 
Christmas  and  now  much  less  known 
than  the  familiar  poinsettia.  In  the  play 
a  little  country  girl  named  Madelon, 
who  has  accompanied  the  shepherds 
to  the  manger  in  Bethlehem,  weeps 
because  she  has  nothing  to  offer  the 
Christ  Child.  She  cannot  even  bring 
flowers  for  it  is  winter.  An  Angel  leads 
her  into  the  dark  night  and,  touching 
the  cold  ground,  causes  a  flower  to 
spring  up  and  blossom — the  Christmas 
rose,  called  also  the  Christmas  flower, 
and  Christe  herbe.  She  fills  her  hands 
with  the  miraculous  blooms  and  hurries 
back  with  her  gift.  From  that  day  to 
this,  according  to  the  legend,  the  flower 
blooms  every  year  at  Christmas;  and, 
in  fact,  it  often  does. 

The  Christmas  rose  is  a  perennial, 
low-growing  plant  with  dark,  shining, 
smooth  leaves.  The  flower-stalks,  with 
their  white  blossoms,  rise  directly  from 
the  root.  Despite  the  name,  it  is  not  a 
true  rose  but  a  member  of  the 
Ranunculaceae,  or  buttercup,  family, 
the  species  of  which  often  have  flowers 
resembling  the  wild  rose  in  appearance. 
It  is  native  to  the  mountainous  regions 
of  central  and  southern  Europe,  Greece, 
and  Asia  Minor  and  is  cultivated  in 
this  country  as  a  garden  plant.  In  mild 
winters  the  plant  flowers  about 
Christmastime,  even  in  the  northern 
parts  of  the  United  States.  The  time  of 
blooming,  however,  depends  largely 
on  the  weather.  If  the  temperature  is 
favorable,  the  first  flowers  may  open  as 
early  as  October  or  November;  if  not, 
they  may  delay  opening  until  the  first 
mild  days  of  spring.  In  our  Midwest 
area  there  are  reports  of  gardeners 
gathering  the  flowers  on  Christmas  day, 
with  the  thermometer  hovering  around 
the  zero  mark  and  the  blossoms  hidden 
under  several  inches  of  snow.  It  is  more 
usual,  however,  to  find  them  in  spring. 

Engraving  of  Helleborus  niger  (Christmas  rose) 
from  Herbler  Artificial,  Paris,   1783.  Drawn  by 
Melle  de  St.  Suire;  engraved  by  Dupin  Fils.  Ttiis 
bool<  is  in  the  Sterling  Morton  Library. 
Morton  Arboretum. 

The  Morton  Arboretum,  Lisle,  Illinois, 
has  a  bed  of  Christmas  roses  in  its 
ground  cover  collection  on  the  east  side 
of  its  administration  building  and 
reports  that  in  most  years  the  flowers 
appear  in  early  March. 

Ironically,  the  Christmas  rose,  with  its 
pure  white  flowers  and  festal 
associations,  is  poisonous,  as  indicated 
by  its  scientific  name,  Helleborus  niger 
(black  hellebore).  Helleborus  is  derived 
from  two  Greek  words  meaning  "to 
kill"  and  "food";  niger  refers  to  the 
plant's  dark-colored  root.  The  plant 
contains  two  glucosides,  helleborin 
and  helleborein,  both  powerful  poisons. 
The  former  is  a  narcotic  and  the  latter 
a  highly  active  cardiac  poison,  similar 
in  its  effect  to  digitalis.  Used  as  a  drug, 
the  plant  possesses  drastic  purgative 
and  anthelmintic  properties  but  is 
violently  narcotic.  Consequently,  it  must 
be  used  with  great  care  and  is  usually 
considered  more  dangerous  than 
beneficial.  It  is  occasionally  used  in 
the  cure  of  dropsy  and  has  proved 
useful  in  some  nervous  disorders  and 
hysteria.  It  is  also  used  in  veterinary 

The  ancient  Greeks  and  Romans  were 
well  aware  of  the  poisonous  nature  of 
the  Christmas  rose,  or  hellebore,  and 
used  it  widely  as  a  medicine.  This  use  is 
of  great  antiquity  and,  for  this  reason, 
few  plants  are  more  surrounded  with 
legend  and  superstition.  Greek  tradition 
holds  that  it  was  the  shepherd  and  seer 
Melampus  who  first  discovered  its 
virtues.  He  supposedly  lived  about 
1500  B.C.  and  counted  among  his 
accomplishments  the  ability  to 
understand  the  language  of  birds. 
Melampus  traveled  into  Egypt  to  study 
the  healing  art  and  there  became 
acquainted  with  the  cathartic  qualities 
of  hellebore  by  observing  its  effect  on 
some  goats  that  had  fed  upon  it.  He 
used  the  herb  to  cure  the  three 
daughters  of  Proteus,  King  of  Argos,  of 
a  peculiar  form  of  madness  which 
caused  them  to  run  naked  in  the  field 
under  the  delusion  that  they  were  cows. 
In  some  versions  of  the  story  the  plant 

itself  was  used,  followed  by  baths  in  a 
cold  fountain;  in  others,  the  milk  of 
goats  that  had  eaten  the  plant  was  used. 
In  any  event,  the  cure  was  successful, 
and  for  centuries  thereafter  hellebore 
was  famous  as  a  cure  for  insanity. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  a  number  of 
superstitions  grew  up  around  a  plant 
with  such  mysterious  and  magical 
powers.  Pliny  the  Elder  recorded  in  his 
Natural  History  in  the  first  century  that 
tf>e  Greek  rhizotomoi,  or  root-gatherers, 
thought  it  necessary  to  take  great 
precautions  in  gathering  hellebore: 

A  circle  is  first  traced  around  it  with  a  sword, 
after  which,  the  person  about  to  cut  it  turns 
towards  the  East,  and  offers  up  a  prayer 
entreating  permission  of  the  gods  to  do  so. 
At  the  same  time  he  observes  whether  an 
eagle  is  in  sight — for  mostly  while  the  plant 
is  being  gathered  that  bird  is  near  at  hand 
— and  if  one  should  chance  to  fly  close  . .  . 
it  is  looked  upon  as  a  presage  that  he  will 
die  within  the  year. 

It  was  also  considered  wise  to  eat 
garlic  beforehand  to  ward  off  the 
poisonous  fumes  and  to  drink  wine 
every  now  and  then,  with  "care  being 
taken  to  dig  up  the  plant  as  speedily 
as  possible."  Houses  were  protected 
from  evil  spirits  by  being  ceremoniously 
strewn  or  perfumed  with  hellebore, 
and  cattle  were  similarly  blessed  to 
ward  off  the  spells  of  the  wicked.  The 
Gauls  rubbed  the  points  of  their  arrows 
with  it  in  the  belief  that  it  rendered 
the  game  more  tender. 

The  Romans  at  first  regarded  hellebore 
with  horror  but  gradually  came  to 
accept  it  enthusiastically.  Pliny  wrote 
that  in  his  time  it  had  become  "familiar" 
and  was  looked  upon  as  possessing 
"mind-expanding"  capabilities: 

.  . .  Studious  men  are  in  the  habit  of  taking 
it  for  the  purpose  of  sharpening  the 
intellectual  powers  required  by  their  literary 
investigations.  Carneades,  for  instance, 
made  use  of  hellebore  when  about  to 
answer  the  treatises  of  Zeno. 

The  hellebore  of  Anticyra,  in  the  Gulf 
of  Corinth,  was  then  esteemed  the  best, 
and  Pliny  noted  that  Drusus,  "the  most 
famous  of  all  the  tribunes  of  the 


people,"  was  cured  of  epilepsy  there. 
Its  fame  was  such  that  hypochondriacal 
persons  were  told  to  "take  a  trip  to 
Anticyra" — Horace  called  a  hopeless 
mental  case  "one  that  not  three 
Anticyras  could  cure." 

It  should  be  pointed  out  that  it  was  not 
necessarily  Helleborus  niger  to  which 
all  these  wonderful  virtues  were 
ascribed,  for  there  are  a  number  of 
species  of  hellebore.  It  is  believed  that 
the  hellebore  of  the  ancients  may  have 
been  H.  orientalis;  but  the  species 
which  came  to  be  used  the  most  for 
magical  and  medicinal  purposes  was 
H.  niger,  which  the  famous  herbalist 
Parkinson  called  the  only  "true  and 
right  kinde." 

Black  hellebore  continued  to  be  used 
down  through  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries  very  much  as  in 
ancient  times.  The  herbalist  Gerarde 
regarded  it  as  a  cure  for  mania  and 
wrote  that  "a  purgation  of  Hellebore 
...  is  good  for  mad  and  furious  men, 
for  melancholy,  dull,  and  heavie 
persons,  and  briefly,  for  all  those  that 
are  troubled  with  black  choler  and 
molested  with  melancholy."  Burton, 
in  his  famous  Anatomy  of  Melancholy, 
introduces  hellebore  among  the 
emblematical  figures  in  his  frontispiece 
with  the  following  lines: 

Borage  and  Hellebore  fill  two  scenes, 
Sovereign  plants  to  purge  the  veins 
Of  melancholy,  and  cheer  the  heart 
Of  those  black  fumes  which  make  it  smart; 
To  clear  the  brain  of  misty  fogs, 
Which  dull  our  senses,  and  soul  clogs; 
The  best  medicine  that  e'er  God  made 
For  this  malady,  if  well  assaid. 

The  plant  was  much  valued  in  medieval 
times  and  after  for  keeping  away 
witches  and  evil  spirits  and  breaking 
spells  and  enchantments.  Cattle  that 
had  been  bewitched  or  poisoned  were 
cured,  according  to  Parkinson,  in  the 
following  way: 

A  piece  of  root  being  drawne  through  a 
hole  made  in  the  eare  . . .  cureth  it,  if  it  be 
taken  out  the  next  day  at  the  same  houre. 

It  was  thought  that  hellebore  could  cure 
deafness  caused  by  witchcraft  and  that 

Engraving  of  Helleborus  niger  (Christmas  rose)  by  Nicoias  Robert  from  Denis  Dodard's  £s(ampes  pour 
Servir  a  I'HIstoIre  des  Plantes,  Paris,  1701.  This  book  is  in  the  Sterling  Morton  Library,  Morton  Arboretum. 

It  could  even  cure  such  as  seemed 
possessed  by  the  Devil  and  was 
therefore  called  Fuga  Daemonum. 

It  is  curious  to  note  that  the  celebrated 
physician  Paracelsus  made  great  use  of 
hellebore.  He  believed  that  it  could 
restore  youth  and  vigor  to  old  people 
and  advised  that  it  should  be  gathered 
when  the  moon  was  in  one  of  her 
signs  of  conservation,  dried  in  an  east 
wind,  powdered,  and  mixed  with  its 
own  weight  of  sugar  for  best  effect. 

We  seem  to  have  come  a  long  way 
from  the  hellebore  of  our  predecessors 
on  this  earth,  with  its  magical  and 
medicinal  properties,  to  the  Christmas 
rose  of  today,  with  its  happy 
associations,  and,  even  if  we  can  no 
longer  value  it  for  the  virtues  it  does 
not  really  possess,  we  can  still  admire 
it  for  its  beauty. 

W.  Peyton  Fawcett  is  head  librarian,  Field 
Museum  Library. 


Hanukkah         Maurice  I.  Kliers 

Legend  has  it  that  Alexander  the 
Great,  as  he  swept  through  and 
conquered  the  whole  of  the  then 
known  world,  approached  Jerusalem  at 
the  head  of  his  vast  army.  Instead  of 
confronting  him  with  armed  forces  as 
did  all  other  peoples,  the  Priests  of 
Judah,  in  their  priestly  white  robes, 
went  forth  to  greet  him  in  peace. 

Behind  this  legend  is  the  fact  of  the 
historic  confrontation  of  two 
civilizations:  Hellenism  and  Judaism. 
Alexander  was  not  only  a  great 
general.  He  was  also  a  student  of 
Aristotle,  and  spread  Greek  thought 
until  it  blanketed  the  world.  During  his 
lifetime  and  for  almost  200  years, 
Judaism  and  Hellenism  lived 
harmoniously  and  enriched  each  other 
In  Judah. 

Antiochus,  King  of  the  Greco-Syrians 
and  successor  to  a  portion  of 
Alexander's  empire,  was  not  as  wise. 
He,  probably  with  the  encouragement 
of  Jewish  Hellenists  in  Judah, 
attempted  in  165  B.C.  to  foist  upon  all 
of  the  Judeans  the  Greek  way  of  life — 
its  language,  sports,  garb,  but  also  its 

Mathathias,  a  priest  in  the  hamlet  of 
Modin,  near  Jerusalem,  and  his  sons 
the  Maccabees  rebelled  and  began  a 
guerilla  war  which  lasted  over  two 
years  and  was  successful. 

The  rebels,  also  known  as  the 
Hasideans,  may  have  recognized  the 
splendor  of  Greek  thought — its 
philosophy,  architecture,  sculpture, 
literature,  and  science.  However,  they 
were  committed  to  that  which  was 
lacking  in  the  Greek  way  of  life:  a 

living  God,  a  vital  faith,  and  the 
sacredness  of  the  human  personality. 
It  has  also  been  said  that  whereas  the 
Greeks  believed  in  the  holiness  of 
beauty,  the  Jews  believed  in  the 
beauty  of  holiness. 

It  was  this  cultural  clash  that  lay 
behind  the  war  of  the  Maccabees. 
With  their  victory  came  a  freedom  to 
worship  their  God  without  paying 
homage  to  strange  idols.  This  war  of 
the  Maccabees  can  therefore  be 
considered  the  first  fight  man  waged 
for  religious  freedom  and  therefore  has 
universal  significance.  All  who  fight  for 
religious  freedom  owe  a  debt  to  the 

The  Maccabean  victory  was 
undoubtedly  inspired  by  religious  faith, 
but  it  was  also  helped  by  the  rising 
power  from  the  West — Rome. 
Antiochus  retreated  from  Judah  to 
mend  his  fences  back  home  and 
prepare  for  the  struggle  with  Rome 
which  loomed  on  their  horizon. 

Under  the  leadership  of  Judah 
Maccabee,  son  and  successor  of 
Mathathias,  the  Temple  in  Jerusalem 
was  cleansed  and  dedicated. 
Hanukkah  means  "dedication"  in 
Hebrew.  The  Temple  had  been 
polluted  by  the  Greco-Syrians  by  virtue 
of  having  idols  brought  into  it.  When 
the  Temple  was  cleansed,  only  one 
small  cruse  of  oil  was  found  undefiled. 
Normally  it  would  have  lasted  only  one 
day.  It  was  used  as  a  perpetual  flame 
in  the  Temple.  (Today  this  light  is 

represented  by  the  Ner  Tamid — 
"Eternal  Light"  in  the  Synagogue.) 
However,  according  to  a  Jewish 
tradition,  the  oil  lasted  eight  days. 
Thereafter,  a  holiday  of  eight  days 
was  established  and  called  Hanukkah. 

Today  in  Jewish  homes,  and  in  Israel 
also  in  public  institutions,  an 
eight-branched  Menorah  or  candelabra 
is  lit  on  the  25th  day  of  the  Hebrew 
month  of  Kislev,  or  toward  the  middle 
of  December. 

In  the  first  century  before  the  common 
era  there  was  a  controversy  between 
the  Schools  of  Hillel  and  Shammai  as 
to  how  the  Menorah  should  be  lit. 
Shammai  wanted  all  eight  lights 
kindled  on  the  first  night  and  one  less 
on  each  succeeding  evening.  Hillel — 
and  this  practice  prevailed — wanted 
one  lit  on  the  first  night  and  one  more 
on  each  succeeding  night.  The  Sages 
of  the  Talmud  regarded  this 
controversy  as  implying  a  difference 
between  the  pessimistic  outlook  and 
the  optimistic. 

Hanukkah,  then,  is  a  holiday  of  light 
and  joy  and  optimism,  as  well  as 
religious  freedom. 

Photos:  Bench  type  Hanukkah  lamps,  with  eight  oil 
receptacles  in  a  row,  plus  the  shammash  (servant) 
above  to  light  them.  Hanukkah  lamps  developed 
from  a  simple  Roman  oil  lamp  made  of  clay.  The 
bench  type  shows  that  Hanukkah  was  originally 
celebrated  in  the  home  only.  When  Hanukkah  lights 
were  later  kindled  in  the  synagogue  for  wayfarers, 
the  bench  type  could  not  be  enlarged,  and 
designers  went  to  the  candelabra  shape  of  the  old 
Menorah,  adding  two  lights  to  it.  Thus  the  Menorah 
type  of  Hanukkah  lamp  was  created.  Lett,  Italian 
cast  brass,  c.  1600,  in  collection  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Milton  Horn,  Chicago;  above  and  right,  19th  and 
18th  century  pewter,  in  Morton  B.  Weiss  Museum 
of  Judaica  at  K.A.M.  Isaiah  Israel  Congregation, 

Dr.  Maurice  I.  Kliers  is  Rabbi  of  the  South,  " 
Side  Hebrew  Congregation. 


Uk0     Wang 






Segments  of  Wang  Ch'uan  chen  chi,  rubbing 
mounted  on  tiand  scroll  in  Field  Museum  collection, 
taken  from  a  1617  stone  engraving.  Because 
Chinese  tiand  scrolls  are  read  from  right  to  left, 
this  sequence  should  properly  be  viewed  from 
page  10  "backward"  to  this  page. 

Chinese  dynasties  referred  to  here: 

Chou  (1122-256  B.C.) 

Han  (206  B.C.-A.D.  220) 

rang  (618-907) 

Five  Dynasties  (907-960) 

Sung  (960-1279) 

Yuan  (1280-1367) 

Ming  (1268-1643) 

Ch'ing  (1644-1911) 

During  the  process  of  cataloging  one 
of  Field  Museum's  thousands  of  Chinese 
rubbings,  Dr.  Hoshien  Tchen  came 
upon  a  note  which  indicated  that 
another  rubbing  in  the  collection  which 
had  previously  been  cataloged  might 
be  far  more  important  than  we  had 
suspected  earlier. 

The  rubbing  of  special  interest, 
mounted  on  a  long  hand  scroll,  shows 
various  scenes  of  what  has  often  been 
described  as  the  country  estate  of 
Wang  Wei  (687-759),  a  famous  T'ang 
dynasty  poet  and  artist.  It  had  been 
taken  from  a  stone  engraved  in  1617  to 
reproduce  his  painting  known  as  the 
Wang  Ch'uan  (the  name  he  gave  to 
his  home)  and  was  entitled  Wang 
Ch'uan  chen  chi  ("true  picture  of 
Wang  Ch'uan"). 

We  had  long  known  that  among  the 
several  editions  of  Wang  Ch'uan 
rubbings  in  the  Field  Museum 
collection,  all  from  different  stones, 
and  all  engraved  in  the  Ming  and 
Ch'ing  periods,  this  one  was  particularly 
fine.  A  preface  in  the  scroll  by  Shen 

Kuo-hua,  the  Ming  magistrate  who 
ordered  the  stone  cut,  stated  that  it 
had  been  engraved  from  a  "true 
picture"  of  Wang  Wei's  Wang  Ch'uan 
done  by  Kuo  Chung-shu.  Kuo  was  a 
talented  Sung  artist  who  followed  in  the 
footsteps  of  Wang  Wei  a  few  hundred 
years  later.  But  Shen  did  not  make 
clear  whether  this  Sung  "true  picture" 
had  been  a  painting  or  a  rubbing.  The 
note  Dr.  Tchen  came  across  later, 
written  by  a  Ch'ing  scholar  named 
Wang  Ting,  stated  that  the  1617  edition 
was  copied  from  a  Sung  stone  carving. 

Even  if  the  1617  stone  had  been  cut 
from  a  painted  copy  by  Kuo,  it  would 
be  of  great  value.  As  a  disciple  who 
was  said  to  have  continued  the  earlier 
master's  style  of  painting  into  the  Sung 
period,  Kuo  would  have  rendered  a  true 
likeness.  But  if  Kuo's  "true  picture" 
were  a  rubbing,  our  1617  copy 
of  it  would  be  of  still  greater  value 
— because  the  Sung  model  would 
probably  have  been  traced  from  the 
original  for  the  express  purpose  of 
rendering  as  true  a  likeness  as  the 
engraving  technique  permits.  Thus  did 
the  Chinese  ensure  preservation  of 
a  masterpiece,  and  also  make 
reproductions  for  collectors. 

I  should  point  out  that  a  specimen  of 
Chinese  pictorial  art  may  be  a  copy 
several  times  removed  from  what  we 
would  call  an  "original"  and  still  be 
greatly  valued.  The  late  R.  H.  van 


Gulick,  a  wise,  discriminating  student 
and  collector  of  Chinese  art,  succinctly 
expressed  how  "the  traditional  Chinese 
view  ...  is  fundamentally  different  from 
ours.  While  we  insist  that  a  picture 
actually  is  painted  by  the  man  whose 
signature  it  bears  or  whom  it  is 
ascribed  to,  the  Chinese  have 
throughout  the  centuries  considered 
this  as  a  point  of  secondary  importance; 
for  them  works  of  art  serve  in  the  first 
place  to  preserve  and  faithfully  transmit 
the  spirit  of  the  [original]  artists,  they 
did  not  particularly  care  whether  this 
aim  was  achieved  by  originals  or  by 
good,  bona-fide  copies." 

Why,  then,  should  we  attach  so  much 
importance  to  whether  the  model  for 
this  1617  rubbing  was  a  painting  or 
a  rubbing? 

We  are,  of  course,  primarily  interested 
in  authenticating  as  well  as  cataloging 
and  preserving  our  materials.  But  we 
are  also,  to  paraphrase  Dr.  Tchen, 
"interested  in  opening  questions  that 
other  researchers  may  pursue  on  a 
deeper  basis,"  for  these  rubbings  are 
source  materials — the  bare  facts  of 
Chinese  history  and  culture.  In  this 
instance,  it  can  readily  be  seen  why 
a  model  for  the  1617  rubbing  which 
was  itself  a  rubbing  would  be  of  greater 
value  for  our  understanding  of  the 
original  than  would  a  model  which  was 
a  free-hand  copy,  permitting  distortions 
or  expressions  of  the  copyist  not  found 

in  the  original.  The  art  historian,  as 
well  as  the  art  lover,  could  then  look 
upon  this  1617  rubbing  as  a  fairly 
accurate  statement  of  a  painting 
considered  by  the  Chinese  themselves 
to  be  one  of  their  most  important,  and 
one  that  has  not  been  seen  for 
hundreds  of  years. 

In  a  1914  article  John  C.  Ferguson 
claimed  that  "the  earliest  copy  [of  the 
IVang  Ch'uan]  which  has  come  down 
to  our  present  time  is  that  of  Kuo 
Chung-shu  of  the  Sung  Dynasty,"  and 
that  he  had  had  the  privilege  of 
studying  its  details  and  found  that  they 
tallied  with  a  description  of  our  1617 
rubbing  of  the  Wang  Ch'uan  published 
by  Berthold  Laufer.  (Most  of  Field 
Museum's  rubbings  were  collected  in 
the  early  1900s  by  Dr.  Laufer,  who 
became  one  of  the  Museum's  most 
renowned  curators  for  his  wide 
knowledge  of  East  Asia.)  Ferguson  also 
commented  that  Kuo,  out  of  respect 
for  the  earlier  master,  would  never  have 
permitted  himself  the  freedom  of 
imitating  only  the  style  of  Wang  Wei; 
such  a  copy  would  be  called  a  fan 
painting.  Kuo  made  a  lin  pen,  which 
term  (used  in  an  inscription  on  the 
painting)  means  a  faithful  reproduction 
copied  directly  from  the  original, 
perhaps  traced.  This  painting  is  now 
housed  in  the  Metropolitan  Museum. 
The  fact  that  Kuo  Chung-shu  made  a 
painted  copy  of  the  Wang  Ch'uan 

does  not  rule  out  the  evidence  that 
he  also  did  an  engraving. 

Many  artists  made  free-hand  copies  of 
the  original  Wang  Ch'uan.  One  such 
painting,  and  famous  in  its  own  right, 
is  an  eighteen-foot-long  hand  scroll 
in  the  British  Museum  by  Chao 
Meng-fu  (1254-1322).  In  an  inscription 
following  his  signature  on  the  painting, 
he  acknowledges  it  to  be  a  "free" 
copy;  and  it  is  important  to  look  upon 
these  "free"  copies  as  just  that. 
While  a  masterpiece,  and  supposedly 
based  upon  the  T'ang  model,  the 
painting  reflects  many  of  the 
characteristics  attributed  to  the  Yuan 
period  of  painting.  And  it  is,  as  Chao 
implies,  an  example  of  his  virtuosity. 

In  an  exhibit  of  late  Ming  and  early 
Ch'ing  painters  recently  shown  at  the 
Art  Institute  of  Chicago,  there  was  a  hand 
scroll  entitled  Wang  Ch'uan  Villa.  It 
was  painted  by  Wang  Yuan-ch'i 
(1642-1715).  The  accompanying 
catalog  to  the  exhibition  mentioned 
that  it  was  based  on  a  "1617  engraved 
version  of  the  famous  Wang  Ch'uan 
composition  attributed  to  Wang  Wei," 
which  Wang  Yuan-ch'i  referred  to  as  a 
"popular  stone  engraving."  Though  his 
picture  too  is  a  "free"  copy,  it  is 
interesting  that  of  the  several  rubbings 
from  various  stones  available  in  the 
seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries, 
as  well  as  painted  copies,  he  chose 















l^^^^^^^B^:.     '        ^^ 









^B^^^B^^-ii^^^  ^>  T ' 

i. '  ^^'' 













,  .J*- 




this  1617  version  as  his  model. 

China  has  produced  many  major 
painters,  both  before  and  after  Wang 
Wei,  but  he  has  a  unique  place  in  the 
long  history  of  China's  pictorial  art 
in  that  he  has  been  credited  with 
creating  the  Ch'an  (Zen  in  Japanese) 
Buddhist  school  of  landscape  painting. 
It  came  to  be  known  as  the 
"Southern"  in  contrast  to  the 
"Northern"  school.  These  are  not 
geographical  terms;  rather,  they 
express  styles  and  approaches — the 
"Southern"  using  light  ink-washes  and 
relying  upon  intuition  and  suggestion, 
as  against  the  stricter  attitude  of  color 
over  outline  preferred  by  the 
"Northern."  These  distinctions,  as  so 
often  happens,  were  really 
interpretations  by  artists  and  art 
critics  of  following  periods,  but  they 
set  Chinese  landscape  painting  into 
two  models — not  truly  always  clear 
from  each  other — and  for  one 
thousand  years  followers  of  the  two 
schools  vied  with  each  other  on  merits. 

Thus,  the  possibility  that  the  1617 
stone  could  have  been  copied  from  an 
early  Sung  stone  could  be  as  exciting 
to  the  Chinese  art  historian  as  would 
be  the  discovery  of  a  new  fossil 
species  to  a  paleontologist. 

Why  did  Wang  Wei  and  his  period,  the 
Tang,  assume  such  importance?  It 
was  one  of  China's  most  expansive 

periods — politically,  militarily, 
economically,  and  artistically.  The 
country  was  unified  and  strong,  its 
borders  and  influence  extended  far, 
and  the  arts  reflected  this  vitality. 
Although  the  T'ang  dynasty  is  perhaps 
better  known  by  collectors  and  art 
museums  in  the  West  for  its  tomb 
pieces  of  majestic  human  and  animal 
figures,  it  was  for  the  Chinese  their 
great  period  of  poetry  and  calligraphy. 
It  was  also  a  period  of  innovation  in 
painting,  greatly  influenced  by  Taoism 
and  Buddhism,  when  new  patterns  of 
tradition  became  established. 

Wang  Wei  was  one  of  these 
innovators.  He  was  a  successful 
physician  and  poet  in  his  earty 
twenties.  He  served  briefly  as  an 
assistant  minister  to  the  Emperor 
Hsuan  Ts'ung  until  imprisoned  for  a 
time  by  rebel  forces.  After  his  young 
wife  died  when  he  was  only  thirty-one, 
he  retired  to  a  country  villa.  There  he 
spent  the  remaining  thirty  years  of  his 
life  in  the  meditations  of  Buddhism, 
writing  poetry,  and  painting.  Wang 
Wei's  poems  are  said  to  be  paintings, 
and  his  paintings  poems.  The  scenes 
he  painted  and  often  accompanied 
with  poetry  were  largely  of  the 
beautiful  landscape  of  the  Lan-tien 
District  of  Shensi  Province  in 
northern  China. 

There  has  been  an  adulation  given  to 
Wang  Wei  few  Chinese  artists  have 

enjoyed.  In  the  long  annals  of  Chinese 
art  criticism,  he  is  almost  without 
criticism.  In  fact,  it  was  said  that 
when  Wang  Wei  painted  a  banana  tree 
growing  in  snow,  it  was  plausible. 
None  of  his  paintings  exist  today.  It  is 
questionable  whether  any  paintings  of 
T'ang  artists  still  exist;  those  which 
claim  to  be  T'ang  are  suspect.  It  is 
therefore  with  great  respect  and 
reverence  that  we  turn  to  the  copies 
of  early  masterpieces — either  paintings 
or  the  rubbings  from  engraved  copies. 

What  exactly  are  rubbings? 

For  one  thing,  most  Chinese  rubbings 
are  not  rubbed.  The  term  "rubbings" 
usually  means  to  us  an  image 
produced  by  placing  paper  over  a 
hard  surface  and  actually  rubbing  the 
back  with  chalk  or  crayon  to  get  an 
impression  of  the  engraved  or  relief 
design  underneath.  This  is  how  we 
might,  for  instance,  take  a  rubbing  of 
a  coin  or  an  old  gravestone.  But  the 
Chinese  have  for  centuries  used  a 
much  more  refined  technique,  which 
is  technically  called  ink  squeeze. 
The  paper  is  applied  wet,  gently 
tamped  into  the  engraved  parts,  and 
before  it  is  completely  dry  India  ink  is 
evenly  and  carefully  patted  over  the 
surface.  When  the  paper  is  peeled 
off,  only  that  part  which  covered  the 
raised  elements  of  the  hard  surface 
appears  black.  Thus  we  usually  see 
white  lines  on  a  black  background 


because  the  design  on  the  stone  is 
usually  incised.  When  the  impression 
is  taken  from  a  surface  with  the  design 
in  raised  relief,  the  print  will  appear 
as  black  on  white.  If  the  hard  surface 
from  which  the  rubbing  is  taken  is 
fairly  smooth,  like  bronze  or  wood,  the 
print  may  be  difficult  to  distinguish 
from  a  wood-block  print,  which  is  made 
by  inking  the  block  and  pressing 
it  on  the  paper. 

The  Chinese  wet  process  for  taking 
rubbings  does  not  imply  that  they  wish 
to  go  out  of  their  way  to  make  a 
seemingly  simple  process  complicated; 
the  wet  process  gives  a  more 
successful  print.  It  does  not  smudge 
(unless  poorly  done),  and  if  the 
rubbing  is  carefully  stored — better  yet, 
mounted  and  stored — it  can  survive 
for  centuries. 

We  have  mounted  rubbings  in  our 
collection  going  back  to  the  Sung 
period.  In  fact,  many  of  these  rubbings 
have  survived  the  stones  from  which 
they  were  taken,  primarily  because 
they  were  easier  to  care  for. 

It  should  be  pointed  out  here  that 
engravings  on  hard  surfaces  did  not 
begin  with  the  objective  of  taking 
rubbings.  In  fact,  the  Chinese  had 
been  engraving  in  bronze  as  well  as 
stone  long  before  paper  was  invented 
in  the  second  century,  permitting 
rubbings.  Engravings  were  objectives  in 

themselves,  a  form  of  preservation  of 
what  the  Chinese  considered  their 
finest  expression — writings — which 
were  esteemed  above  all  else. 

It  is  said  that  to  ensure  to  posterity 
the  truth  of  the  Confucian  classics, 
which  had  been  distorted  by  many 
generations  of  copyists,  the  Han 
Emperor  Ling  had  these  classics 
collated  and  standardized  once  and 
for  all  by  ordering  that  they  be 
engraved  in  stone,  and  thus  began  the 
great  stone  carvings  of  China  which 
lasted  over  two  thousand  years. 

Not  so.  The  tradition  is  probably  much 
older.  Still  extant  in  Peking  are  stone 
carvings  that  are  memorials  in  poetic 
form  to  a  great  military  success.  It  is 
now  thought  that  they  date  from  the 
seventh  or  eighth  century  B.C.  But  it 
is  conceivable  that  carving  in  stone 
began  even  earlier. 

Quite  possibly  the  Chinese  invented 
paper  because  they  were  looking  for 
a  material  which  lent  itself  to  print 
making  in  order  to  extend  the 
engravings.  Silk  had  been  tried  very 
early  without  much  success.  In  any 
event,  there  is  strong  evidence  that 
by  the  third  century  A.D.  paper  had 
been  perfected  well  enough  to  make 
rubbings,  and  that  by  the  fifth  century, 
when  European  countries  were  still 
struggling  with  sheepskins,  the  Chinese 
were  producing  rubbing  prints  as  a 

"mass  medium."  By  the  Sung 
period,  rubbings  of  famous 
calligraphies  were  already  sought 
after  as  collectors'  items. 

By  the  Ming  dynasty,  pictorial  art  had 
reached  such  a  state  of  perfection  that 
there  was  little  new  to  be  said  or 
reached  for.  Many  critics  have 
considered  it  a  period  of  artistic 
decline,  including  some  who  lived  in 
the  Ming.  By  the  same  token, 
reverence  for  the  older  masters 
increased,  and  engravings  of  old 
paintings,  as  well  as  engravings  of 
calligraphy,  became  more  common 
and  also  sought  after  as  collectors' 
items.  Some  of  these  prints,  if 
rendered  by  a  good  engraver,  were 
valued  above  contemporary  paintings 
or  free-hand  copies  of  older  paintings, 
possibly  because  they  were  truer 
likenesses  of  the  originals. 

The  skills  of  the  copyist  and  engraver 
in  transmitting  a  style  of  painting  or 
calligraphy  are  of  utmost  importance. 
In  early  days  there  were  special  court 
engravers  who  worked  exclusively  for 
the  emperor.  Later  it  became  a  proud 
trade,  and  very  often  we  will  find  the 
name  of  the  engraver  as  well  as  that 
of  the  calligrapher  or  painter  cut  into 
stone.  Engravings,  depending  on 
the  detail,  demand  much  time  and 
infinite  patience.  To  reproduce  the 
original  as  exactly  as  possible,  a 
tracing  of  it  must  first  be  made  and 



transferred  onto  the  stone,  then 
carved  into  it.  The  technique  can 
pick  up  the  calligraphic  lines  of  a 
painting  but  must  sacrifice  the  freedom 
of  the  brush  stroke,  and  cannot 
possibly  reproduce  the  nuances  of  ink 
wash  (although  attempts  to  do  so 
have  been  made).  The  harsh  nature 
of  stone  does  not  easily  yield  the 
fluid  lines  created  by  a  brush,  but 
some  results  are  amazing. 

The  quality  of  the  rubbing  from  the 
1617  stone  indicates  that  the  copyist 
and  engraver  knew  their  trades  well. 
This  judgment  is  confirmed  in  the  scroll 
itself.  The  prefatory  remarks  written 
on  the  scroll  by  Shen  Kuo-hua  (who 
had  the  stone  cut)  first  explain  that 
when  he  was  magistrate  of  Lan-tien 
District,  he  discovered  that  the  copy 
there  of  Wang  Wei's  Wang  Ch'uan 
painting  was  coarse  looking  and  not 
even  representative  of  the  Wang 
Ch'uan  landscape.  He  goes  on  to  state 
that  he  ordered  Wang  Wei's  "true 
picture"  in  the  collection  owned  by 
Yang  Pai-fu  be  cut  on  stone,  this 
"true  picture"  being  a  copy  made  by 
Kuo  Chung-shu  (Sung  dynasty);  that 
Kuo  Sou-lu  was  appointed  to  copy  it 
for  the  new  stone  carving;  and  that 
his  fine  work  is  praised  for  being  an 
exact  copy  of  the  Sung  dynasty  edition. 
Several  colophons  of  appreciation  also 
follow  the  picture,  including  one  by 
the  collector  Yang  Pai-fu  and  one  by 

the  engraver  of  the  new  stone.  We  are 
encouraged  regarding  the  accuracy 
of  this  1617  edition  by  all  these 
testimonials;  plus  the  fact  that  the 
Sung  copyist  was  a  fine  artist  and 
disciple  of  the  Wang  Wei  "Southern" 
school;  plus  the  knowledge  that  the 
print  of  this  Sung  edition  used  as  a 
model  was  borrowed  from  a 
recognized  collector. 

Good  rubbings  are  no  longer  easy  to 
obtain,  and  are  certainly  not 
inexpensive.  Many  of  the  stones  from 
which  they  were  made  are  gone  or 
unavailable  and  the  craft  of  the  engraver 
is  dying  out.  Quite  likely  it  is 
already  gone.  We  are  therefore 
fortunate  at  Field  Museum  to  have 
received  from  Dr.  Berthold  Laufer  one 
of  the  best  and  most  encompassing 
collections  of  rubbings  ever  assembled 
— including,  among  other  things,  a 
prize  in  the  1617  edition  of  the 
VJang  Ch'uan  chen  chi. 

As  a  postscript  about  Chinese 
rubbings  in  general,  perhaps  it  should 
be  noted  that  the  mulberry  paper  used 
is  very  delicate  and  highly  responsive 
to  changes  of  temperature  and  light. 
Rubbings  should  therefore  be  exhibited 
as  sparingly  as  possible,  and  with 
caution.  While  a  few  of  the  rubbings 
in  Field  Museum's  collection  go  back 
to  the  Sung  period,  most  are  of 
comparatively  recent  vintage — not 

more  than  300  years  old — and  fairly 
well  preserved  only  because  these 
regrettably  strict  measures  are  taken. 
A  few  are  on  permanent  display, 
however,  in  the  China  exhibits  on  the 
second  floor. 


Catalog  cards,  nos.  116203  and  245473, 
East  Asian  Study,  Field  Museum. 

John  C.  Ferguson.  "Wang  Ch'uan." 
Ostasiatische  Zeitschrilt,  vol.  3,  no.  1,  1914. 

Berthold  Laufer.  "The  Wang  Ch'uan  T'u,  A 
Landscape  of  Wang  Wei,"  Ostasiatische 
Zeitschrift,  vol.  1,  no.  1,  1912. 

T.  H.  Tsien.  Written  on  Bamboo  and  Silk: 
Ttie  Beginnings  of  Chinese  Booths  and 
Inscriptions.  University  of  Chicago  Press, 

R.  H.  van  Gulik,  LItt.D.  (trans.) 
Scrapbook  for  Chinese  Collectors — A 
Chinese  Treatise  on  Scrolls  and  Forgers 
by  Shu-hua-shuo-ling.  Beirut,  1958. 

Roderick  Whitfield.  In  Pursuit  ot  Antiquity. 
Catalog  of  Chinese  paintings  of  the  Ming 
and  Ch'ing  Dynasties  from  the  collection  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Earl  Morse  published  by  the 
Art  Museum  of  Princeton  University,  1969. 

Alice  Schneider  is  volunteer  assistant  to  Dr. 

Hoshien  Tchen,  consultant  to  Field 
Museum's  East  Asian  Study,  Department 
of  Anthropology. 


jPi^  , '  ^  ^^m 



A  Latin  American  Christmas 
Terua  Williams 

Tegucigalpa,  Honduras 
December  25 
Dear  Mother  and  Dad, 

It  was  four  o'clock  this  morning  before 
we  turned  the  covers  down  and 
crawled  into  bed.  We  have  been 
celebrating  Christmas  as  guests  of  our 
Guatemalan  friends  the  M6ridas,  now 
residing  here  in  Honduras.  Christmas 
Eve,  Noche  Buena,  rather  than 
Christmas  Day  is  the  high  point  of 
this  joyous  occasion.  At  midnight  the 
bells  in  all  the  church  towers  began 
to  peal  and  the  sky  caught  fire  with 
flares  and  reverberated  with  rockets  to 
remind  us  of  the  "Joy  to  the  World" 
message  that  the  Christ  Child  was  born. 

From  the  moment  we  arrived  at  the 
outskirts  of  town  early  yesterday 
evening  we  felt  the  festive  mood. 
Children  were  already  setting  off  fire 
crackers.  Christmas  and  Easter  are 
the  two  holidays  of  the  year  when 
families  down  here  make  a  great 
effort  to  be  together,  and  we  were  so 
happy  to  be  invited  to  join  our  friends' 
family  group  for  this  Noche  Buena 
when  we  ourselves  were  far  from 
home.  Coronel  M6rida,  dona  Lola, 
Aida,  Carmen  Rosa,  and  Marco  were 
all  at  the  threshold  to  greet  us  with 
a  Feliz  Navidad! 

We  rather  expected  to  have  a 
traditional  Guatemalan  Christmas  plus 
— because  the  M6ridas  had  lived 
some  years  in  New  Orleans  and  so 
had  adopted  some  of  our  northern 
Christmas  customs.  And  so  it  was. 
A  huge  pine  tree  filling  one  corner  of 
the  living  room  was  decorated  with 

ornaments.  The  tree  has  become  a 
part  of  Christmas  here  only  in  recent 
years.  El  nacimiento,  the  traditional 
nativity  scene,  which  is  always  present 
in  Latin  American  homes  on  this 
holiday,  was  arranged  on  a  table  near 
the  tree.  The  figures  of  this  one  were 
of  finely  carved  wood.  Sometimes  they 
are  made  of  porcelain,  and  sometimes 
they  are  crudely  shaped   of  clay  and 
painted  bright  colors.  Always  the 
scene  includes  the  Holy  Family,  the 
Three  Kings,  the  shepherds,  and  the 
animals.  Over  the  years  various 
family  members  usually  add  houses, 
trees,   and   other   figures   and   objects 
until  the  nacimiento  becomes  a  village. 
They  use  Spanish  moss,  tiny  succulent 
plants,  lichens,  and  pine  needles  for 
the  landscaping.  The  bromeliads  that 
come  into  bloom  in  December  here, 
with  shiny  green  leaves  and  bright 
red  bracts,  as  well  as  the  poinsettias 
that  grow  so  luxuriantly,  sometimes  as 
hedges,  are  used  to  decorate  homes 
and  churches.  And  often  the  floors 
are  sprinkled  with  long  green  pine 

The  church  we  went  to  for  midnight 
mass  was  perfumed  with  candles  and 
pine  needles  and  incense.  The 
candle-lit  mass  is  called  misa  del 
gallo,  for  the  cock  is  supposed  to 
crow  at  midnight.  At  the  end  of  the 
service  we  were  all  given  lighted 
candles  to  carry  down  the  aisle  and 
out  into  the  night  as  the  bells  peeled 
and  the  fireworks  rained  starlets  down 
above  our  heads.    When  we  arrived 
home  in  this  spirit  of  joy  we  knelt 
before  the  nacimiento  to  give  thanks 

for  our  well  being  and  to  bless  the 
feast  of  which  we  were  about  to 

What  a  feast  it  was!  You  have  had 
tamales  made  of  cornmeal  with  meat 
inside.  We  had  nacatamales — super 
tamales.  The  cooked  cornmeal,  called 
masa,  has  mixed  into  it  lard,  onion, 
garlic,  green  pepper,  pimiento,  salt, 
and  the  bright  yellow  achiote  powder 
which  gives  color.  This  mixture  is 
spread  on  pieces  of  banana  leaf.  Then 
chopped    turkey    meat,    boiled    rice, 
cooked  chick  peas,  diced  raw  potato, 
green  olives,  capers,  and  even  raisins 
are   placed   on   top.   The   tamale   is 
rolled  up  and  wrapped  in  the  banana 
leaf,  tied,  and  placed  in  a  big  kettle 
to  steam  over  boiling  water.  When  the 
leaves  are  well  cooked,  so  are  the 
nacatamales.    One   alone   is   a   meal, 
but  that  was  just  one  course. 

Then  came  the  time  to  open  the  gifts 
piled  under  the  tree.  This  custom  is 
ours,  not  theirs,  and  Santa  Claus  was 
introduced  to  them  by  us.  Before  Santa 
Claus  was  imported  children  believed 
that  the  Three  Kings  were  the  bearers 
of  gifts — and  not  on  Christmas  Day, 
but  on  the  Twelfth  Night.  In  many 
places  children  still  put  grass  out  to 
feed  the  animals  the  Three  Kings  ride. 
They  awake  next  morning  to  find  the 
grass  gone  and  gifts  left  in  its  place. 

Throughout  the  twelve  days  of 
Christmas  the  paranda  custom  leads 
to  many  an  all-night  party.  During  this 
period  anyone  or  any  group  knocking 
at  a  door  at  any  hour  must  be  invited 
in  and  served  refreshments,  and  the 
housewife  must  be  prepared  with 
cookies,  drink,  and  music.  The 
seasonal  beverage  is  rompope,  which 
requires  a  bottle  of  aguardiente  (raw 
rum),  ten  egg  yolks,  a  quart  of  milk, 
ten  tablespoons  of  sugar,  some 
cinnamon,  and  vanilla. 

Since  we  couldn't  share  your  Christmas 
this  year,  we  want  to  share  ours  with 

With  love,   Rua 

Terua  Williams  is  a  volunteer  in  the 
Department  of  Botany  and  the  wile  ot 
Dr.  Louis  O.  Williams,  chairman  ot  the 
Department  ot  Botany,  Field  Museum.  This 
letter  recalls  a  Christmas  she  and  her 
husband  spent  in  Latin  America.  The 
illustration  is  trom  her  own  linoleum 
block  cut. 



Shall  we 

inherit  the  whirlwind? 

John  Clark 

Hurricane  Ginger  in  its  dying  phases  shows  as  a  broad,  white  cloud  mass.  A  zone    of  clear  weather  (dark  area)  lies  between  the  rotating  mass  of  the 
hurricane  and  the  normal   cloud  systems.  The  enormous  heat  energy  which   drives   the  rotating  storm  system  has  been  moved  by  the  storm  from  near  Jamaica 
northwestward  to  Virginia. 

Hurricane  Ginger,  which  hit  the  coast 
of  North  Carolina  this  fall,  was  a  large 
but  only  moderately  nasty  girl. 
Hurricane  Ginger  was  also  one  of 
very  few  hurricanes  that  have  been 
seeded  with  silver  iodide  or  other 
particles,  with  the  aim  of  moderating 
their  power. 

Now  there  is  serious  question  whether 
or  not  the  treatment  was  effective. 
Ginger  was  already  very  old,  as 
hurricanes  go,  and  showed  several 
abnormal  characteristics.  The  experts 
who  supervise  Project  Stormfury,  the 
federal  agency  which  observes  and 
tries  to  temper  hurricanes,  must  study 
the  results  carefully  before  they  can 
say  just  what  the  results  of  seeding 

If  we  consider  the  tragic  loss  of  life 

and  property  when  a  major  hurricane 
strikes  our  coast.  Project  Stormfury 
appears  to  be  one  of  the  wisest 
investments  our  government  makes. 
Its  studies  of  the  nature  of  hurricanes 
have  enormously  expanded  our 
knowledge  of  them.  With  understanding 
has  come  increased  ability  to  predict 
their  courses.  This  alone  has  saved 
more  money  than  the  project  costs. 

But  is  it  wise  to  learn  to  dissipate 
hurricanes?  I  wonder. 

What  is  a  hurricane  anyway?  We  all 
know  that  it  Is  a  violent,  rotating 
storm  which  follows  an  erratic  path. 
What  else  is  it?  Therein  lies  the  real 
problem.  In  order  to  understand,  we 
must  see  hurricanes  not  as  separate 
entities,  but  as  part  of  Earth's 

atmospheric  circulation  system. 

The  circulating  part  of  the  atmosphere 
is  a  fluid  film  only  a  few  miles  thick 
surrounding  our  globe.  The  power  that 
drives  it  is  convection,  the  same  power 
that  makes  a  pot  of  water  simmer 
over  a  burner. 

Power  for  the  major  convection  system 
is  generated  by  the  difference  in 
temperature  between  the  tropics  and 
the  poles.  Warm  air  boils  upward  over 
the  equator,  passes  through  a  series 
of  "simmers,  "  and  eventually  cools  off 
near  the  poles.  If  you  put  one  end  of 
a  long,  flat  pan  over  a  low  burner 
and  fill  the  pan  with  a  couple  of  inches 
of  water,  you  can  see  the  same  thing 
happen.  If  the  heat  is  great,  a  single 
"boil"  (technically,  a  convection  cell) 



This  greatly  simpllfled  diagram  shows  the  global  pattern  of  air  convectlor)  at  the  earth's  surface.  This 
Is  modified  by  the  secondary,  continental-oceanic  system  and  by  many  lesser  Influences.  The  cooling, 
down-moving  air  masses  at  the  poles  and  warming,  upward-moving  air  masses  at  the  equator  are  separated  by 
a  second  "simmer"  or  convection  cell  in  each  hemisphere. 

develops  over  the  whole  pan.  Turn 
the  heat  down,  and  several  "simmers" 
(smaller  convection  cells)  appear.  This 
more  nearly  resembles  the  situation 
in  our  atmosphere.  Notice  that  the 
system  is  three-dimensional.  Until  air 
travel  became  common,  we  always 
thought  of  winds  and  storms  as  at  the 
bottom  of  our  air  film — on  Earth's 
surface.  Nowadays  anyone  who  has 
ridden  a  jet  airliner  knows  that  the 
atmosphere  moves  up,  down,  and 
sideways  at  all  elevations. 

A  second  and  smaller  convection 
arises  due  to  the  difference  in 
temperature  between  continents  and 
oceans.  The  continents  are  warmer 
than  their  neighboring  oceans  in 
summer,  and  colder  in  winter.  This  sets 
up  a  lesser  system  of  air  movement, 
which  modifies  but  doesn't  supersede 
the  main  one. 

Hurricanes  do  not  constitute  a 
meteorological  island,  sufficient  unto 
themselves.  They  are  an  integral  part 
of  Earth's  orderly  system  of  convective 
heat  circulation.  Most  of  them  occur 
during  autumn  and  spring,  just  as  the 
Arctic  temperatures  are  changing,  and 
as  the  secondary  continental-oceanic 
system  is  changing.  Hurricanes  receive 
billions  of  horsepower  of  energy  from 
warm  subtropical  seas  and  transfer 
it  generally  northward  and  landward, 
to  areas  of  colder  air  and,  naturally, 
less  energy. 

What  would  happen  if  Project  Stormfury 
should  find  a  way  of  stopping 
hurricanes  in  their  tracks?  Politically, 
we  can  be  sure  that  from  that  day 
onward  all  hurricanes  would  be 
stopped.  We  cannot  imagine  a 
government  deciding  to  stop  one 
hurricane  but  not  another — that  would 
have  political  consequences  of 
hurricane  proportions. 

And  what  would  happen  to  Earth's 
weather  patterns  if  all  hurricanes  were 
stopped?  No  one  knows,  and  no  one 
can  possibly  predict.  Perhaps  there 
would  be  no  appreciable  change. 

Perhaps  the  climate  of  southeastern 

United  States  would  develop  disastrous 
November  cold  waves.  Perhaps  cutting 
off  the  hurricanes  would  trigger  a 
change  in  the  whole  wind  pattern. 
Since  winds  drive  the  major  ocean 
currents,  even  a  minor  change  in 
prevailing  winds  would  change  the 
direction  of  the  ocean  currents.  We 
might  change  the  climate  of  Europe. 
We  simply  do  not  know,  and  can't 

If  this  interests  you  enough  to  try  the 
experiment  I  mentioned  before,  with 
a  flat  pan  over  a  burner,  you  might  try 
turning  the  burner  to  a  low  simmer, 
then  placing  the  blade  of  a 
pancake-turner  or  a  pie-lifter  in 
different  positions  near  the  simmering 
area.  Watch  how  the  flow  of  water 
changes.  Very  roughly  that  is  what 
suppressing  hurricanes  might  do. 

The  worst  possibility,  and  one  that 
seems  quite  unlikely,  is  that  equatorial 
heat  might  build  up  until  it  produced  a 
super-hurricane  which  we  could  not 
stop,  tvluch  more  probably,  some 
notable  changes  would  occur  in  our 
winter  weather.  Since  the  warm-air 
movement  would  be  forced  into  the 
upper  atmosphere,  we  might  well 
experience  bitterly  cold  winters  here 
at  Earth's  surface. 

I  cannot  help  wondering  if  it  is  wise 
of  us  to  tamper  with  one  of  the 
mightiest  forces  in  Nature  before  we 
know  what  we  are  doing.  We  may 
indeed,  in  the  words  of  Hosea,  sow  the 
wind  and  inherit  the  whirlwind. 

Dr.  John  Clark  is  associate  curator  of 
sedirDentary  petrology,  Department  ot 
Geology,  Field  Museum. 



New  Trustee 

Gordon  Bent,  well  known  Chicago  business 
man,  has  been  elected  a  Trustee  of  the  Field 
Museum  of  Natural  History.  Remick 
McDowell,  Museum  president,  made  the 
announcement  following  a  recent  meeting 
of  the  Board  of  Trustees. 

Bent  is  general  partner  and  syndicate 
manager  of  Bacon,  Whipple  &  Company. 
He  has  been  associated  with  the  firm  since 
1946.  In  the  past,  he  has  held  the  important 
posts  of:  governor  of  the  Midwest  Stock 
Exchange  from  1967  to  1968;  governor  from 
1956  to  1960  and  chairman  in  1959  and 

Gordon  Bent 

1960  of  the  Chicago  Association  of  Stock 

Exchange  Firms;  and  national  governor 

from  1964  to  1966  and  chairman  in  1962  of 

the  National  Association  of  Securities 


Among  his  civic  activities,  Bent  serves  as 
vice  president  and  member  of  the  board  of 
directors  of  the  Chicago  Maternity  Center. 

Three  Retire 

Three  members  of  the  maintenance  staff 
retired  recently  after  a  total  of  77  years' 
service  to  the  Museum.  Mrs.  Allener 
Nathaniel  was  with  the  Museum  for  16 
years;  Stephen  Kovar  served  on  the  staff 
for  41  years;  and  Tomasz  Turley  has  retired 
after  20  years.  The  Museum  is  grateful  to 
these  people  for  their  long  service  and  for 
the  fine  caliber  of  their  work. 

Dr.  Karel  Liem  Back  at  Museum 

Dr.  Karel  Liem,  associate  curator  of 
vertebrate  anatomy,  has  returned  to  Field 
Museum  after  a  year  of  study  abroad  on  a 
Guggenheim  Memorial  Foundation 

Dr.  Liem  spent  seven  months  in  London 
at  the  British  Museum  and  five  months  in 
the  Netherlands  at  the  University  of  Leyden 
studying  the  morphology  and  evolution  of 
cichlid  fishes  in  Africa's  Lake  Tanganyika. 
The  British  Museum  possesses  the  largest 
collection  in  the  world  of  cichlid  fish; 
the  University  of  Leyden  has  the  best 
laboratory  equipment  in  the  world  for 
analyzing  muscle  function. 

Cichlid  fishes  in  Lake  Tanganyika  have 
undergone  explosive  evolution  over 
approximately  the  last  two  million  years. 
About  five  originally  riverine  species 
evolved  into  135  lacustrine  species. 
Evolution  has  occurred  so  quickly  that  all 
stages  of  that  evolution  are  found  in  the 
lake — the  original  riverine  species  as  well 
as  intermediate  stages  and  highly 
specialized  species. 

Dr.  Liem  is  interested  in  determining  why 
cichlids  but  no  other  fishes  in  the  lake 
have  had  such  a  burst  of  evolution.  "A 
study  of  comparative  anatomy  of  the  fishes, 
particularly  the  feeding  mechanisms,"  said 
Dr.  Liem,  "may  shed  some  light  on  the 
problem."  Dr.  Liem  noted  that  the 
ancestral  form  was  omnivorous — a  general 
feeder — while  the  descendents  have 
developed  specialized  feeding  habits  and 
adaptive  mechanisms.  Some  cichlid 
species,  said  Dr.  Liem,  now  swallow  other 
fish  whole,  some  scrape  algae  from  rocks, 
some  crush  snails,  some  eat  only  scales 
of  other  fish,  and  some  eat  only  fish  eggs. 

In  mouth-breeding  cichlids,  the  female 
incubates  the  eggs  in  her  month  until  they 
hatch,  and  for  some  time  after  hatching 
the  young  return  to  her  mouth  for 
protection.  One  of  the  many  interesting 
species  that  feed  upon  mouth-breeders  has 
evolved  a  large-lipped  mouth  and  very 
small  teeth,  enabling  the  predator  fish 
to  grasp  the  head  of  the  mouth-breeder 
in  its  jaws  and  suck  out  the  eggs  and 
young  fish. 

A  special  problem  presented  by 
mouth-breeders  that  Dr.  Liem  solved  at 
the  University  of  Leyden  was.  How  does 
the  female  fish  respire  while  eggs  or  young 
are  in  her  mouth?  Fish  respire  by  pumping 
water  through  the  gills,  usually  by  using 
the  pumping  action  of  the  cheeks.  By 
attaching  tiny  electrodes  to  individual 
muscles  of  live  cichlids  and  charting 
muscle  activity.  Dr.  Liem  discovered  that 
mouth-breeders  can  also  use  the  pumping 
action  of  the  chin  (gular  region)  to  force 

water  through  the  gills.  They  can  use  both 
methods  of  breathing  interchangeably, 
while  other  cichlids  and  non-cichlids  must 
rely  on  just  one  mechanism — i.e.,  pumping 
action  of  the  cheeks 

Dr.  Liem  was  educated  in  Indonesia,  the 
Netherlands,  and  the  United  States,  and 
holds  a  Ph.D.  in  zoology  from  the  University 
of  Illinois,  Urbana.  He  joined  the  Museum 
staff  in  1965.  He  also  teaches  anatomy 
at  the  University  of  Illinois  College  of 
Medicine  and  has  collaborated  on  or 
authored  some  20  publications  on 
vertebrate  anatomy.  He  is  a  member  of  the 
National  Academy  of  Science's  Committee 
on  Latimeria  (to  study  the  coelacanth,  a 
primitive  fish  previously  thought  to  be 

Staff  Appointments 

Dr.  Robert  Inger  Norman  Nelson 

Two  staff  members  have  been  appointed  to 
the  position  of  assistant  director.  The 
changes  are  aimed  at  consolidating  the 
Museum  organization  to  prepare  for  the 
institution  of  two  long  term  projects  of  vital 
importance  to  Field  Museum  in  the  coming 
decades:  the  $25  million  capital  fund 
campaign  and  a  major  building  rehabilitation 

Dr.  Robert  F.  Inger,  formerly  chairman  of 
Scientific  Programs,  becomes  assistant 
director.  Science  and  Education.  The 
scientific,  exhibition  and  education 
departments,  and  the  library,  come  under  his 

Norman  W.  Nelson,  formerly  business 
manager,  is  assistant  director. 
Administration.  His  area  of  authority 
embraces  the  financial,  sen/ice  and 
administration  functions  of  the  Museum, 
including  the  operation  of  the  building. 

"The  present  departmental  organization  and 
internal  operations  will  remain  unaffected," 
said  Director  E.  Leiand  Webber.  "These 
changes  have  been  made  to  strengthen  our 
administration  functions  and  to  continue 
decentralization  of  responsibility  for  Museum 
operations  and  decision  making." 



Capital  Campaign 

Field  Museum  has  received  a  capital  gift 
of  one  million  dollars  from  an  anonymous 
Chicagoland  donor.  Announcement  of  the 
gift  was  made  by  Nicholas  Galitzine  and 
Marshall  Field,  chairman  and  vice  chairman, 
respectively,  of  the  Museum's  Capital 
Campaign  to  raise  tw/enty-five  million 

This  is  the  largest  gift  received  since  the 
Museum  launched  the  first  capital 
campaign  in  its  twenty-eight-year  history 
on  September  20.  "We  are  elated  by  the 
generosity  of  this  donor,"  said  Galitzine, 
"and  only  wish  that  we  could  reveal  the 
identity  so  that  we  might  express  our 
thanks  publicly." 

This  gift  brings  the  total  contributions 
received  in  the  campaign  to  more  than 

Funds  obtained  through  the  campaign  will 
be  used  to  repair  and  improve  the 
Museum's  fifty-year-old  building,  renovate 
and  modernize  exhibit  areas,  and  improve 
visitor  services  and  educational  facilities. 

"We  deeply  appreciate  this  splendid  gift," 
said  Museum  Director  E.  Leiand  Webber. 
"It  lends  encouraging  support  to  our 
confidence  that  Chicagoans  in  the  1970s 
will  contribute  as  they  did  in  1893,  when 
so  many  persons  contributed  to  the 
founding  of  a  great  museum  for  the  city." 


The  following  Issues  of  Fieldiana  have  been 
recently  published  and  are  available  for 
purchase  from  the  Museum's  Publications 

Fieldiana  is  a  continuing  series  of  scientific 
papers  and  monographs  dealing  with 
anthropology,  botany,  geology,  and  zoology 
published  by  Field  Museum.  Prices  cited 
do  not  reflect  the  10  percent  discount 
available  to  Members  of  the  Museum. 
Publication  Number  should  be  used  when 


"Flora  of  Peru"  (Volume  XIII,  Part  V-B,  No.  3) 
by  Gabriel  Edwin,  associate  professor  of 
biology,  Roosevelt  University,  and  former 
associate  curator  of  vascular  plants.  Field 
Museum.  Publication  1125.  $10. 

"Revision  of  the  Genus  Morganella 
(Lycoperdaceae)"  (Volume  34,  No.  3)  by 
Patricio  Ponce  de  Leon,  assistant  curator, 
cryptogamic  herbarium.  Field  Museum. 
Publication  1127.  $1. 

"A  New  Species  of  Juniperus  from  Mexico" 
(Volume  34,  No.  4)  by  Marion  T.  Hall, 
director.  The  Morton  Arboretum,  Lisle. 
Publication  1131.  $1. 

"Note  On  Gibsoniothamnus"  (Volume  34, 
No.  5)  by  Alwyn  H.  Gentry,  Missouri 
Botanical  Garden,  St.  Louis.  Publication 

1138.  $.75. 

"Flora  Costaricensis"  (Volume  35)  by 
William  C.  Burger,  associate  curator  of 
vascular  plants.  Field  Museum.  Publication 
1140.  $10. 


"Notes  on  the  Siluro-Devonian  Ischadiles 
stellatus  (Fagerstrom  1961),  a 
Dasycladaceous  Alga"  (Volume  23,  No.  3) 
by  Matthew  H.  Nitecki,  associate  curator, 
fossil  invertebrates.  Field  Museum. 
Publication  1134.  $.75. 

"Revision  of  the  Holocystites  Fauna 
(Diploporita)  of  North  America"  (Volume  24) 
by  Christopher  R.  C.  Paul,  assistant 
professor  of  geology,  Indiana  University 
Northwest.  Publication  1135.  $8. 

"Catalogue  of  Type  and  Referred  Specimens 
of  Crinozoa  (Blastoidea)  in  Field  Museum  of 
Natural  History"  (Volume  23,  No.  4)  by  Julia 
Golden,  custodian  of  types,  fossil 
invertebrates.  Field  Museum,  and  Matthew  H. 
Nitecki,  associate  curator,  fossil 
invertebrates,  Field  Museum.  Publication 

1139.  $1. 


"The  Viperid  Snake  Azmiops;  its 
Comparative  Cephalic  Anatomy  and 
Phylogenetic  Position  in  Relation  to 
Viperinae  and  Crotalinae"  (Volume  59,  No. 
2)  by  Karel  F.  Liem,  associate  curator  of 
anatomy.  Field  Museum  and  associate 
professor  of  anatomy.  University  of  Illinois 
Medical  Center,  Chicago;  Hymen  Marx, 
associate  curator  of  amphibians  and 
reptiles,  Field  Museum;  and  George  B. 
Rabb,  research  associate,  Field  Museum 
and  associate  director  of  research  and 
education,  Chicago  Zoological  Society, 
Brookfield.  Publication  Number  1126.  $3. 

"Revision  of  the  Termitophilous  Tribe 
Philotermitini  (Coleoptera:  Staphylinidae)" 
(Volume  58,  No.  4)  by  David  H.  Kistner, 
Shinner  Institute  for  the  Study  of  Interrelated 
Insects,  Department  of  Biology,  Chicago 
State  College.  Publication  1128.  $.75. 

"New  Distributional  Records  of  Bats  from 
Iran"  (Volume  58,  No.  3)  by  Anthony  F. 
DeBlase,  Field  Museum.  Publication  1129. 

"The  Auditory  Region  (Ossicles,  Sinuses)  in 
Gliding  Mammals  and  Selected 
Representatives  of  Non-Gliding  Genera" 
(Volume  58,  No.  5)  by  Walter  Segall, 
research  associate,  vertebrate  anatomy. 
Field  Museum.  Publication  1130.  $1.25. 

"Mating  Calls  of  Some  Frogs  From 
Thailand"  (Volume  58,  No.  6)  by  W.  Ronald 
Heyer,  Biology  Department,  Pacific  Lutheran 
University.  Publication  1132.  $1. 

"Descriptions  of  Some  Tadpoles  From 
Thailand"  (Volume  58,  No.  7)  by  W.  Ronald 
Heyer,  Biology  Department,  Pacific  Lutheran 
University.  Publication  1133.  $.75. 

"A  Redescription  of  Amphiprion  nigripes 
Regan,  a  Valid  Species  of  Anemonefish 
(Family  Pomocentridae)  from  the  Indian 
Ocean"  (Volume  58,  No.  8)  by  Gerald  R. 
Allen,  Department  of  Zoology,  University  of 
Hawaii,  and  Bernice  P.  Bishop  Museum; 
and  Richard  N.  Mariscal,  Department  of 
Biological  Science,  Florida  State  University. 
Publication  1136.  $.75. 

"Auditory  Region  in  Bats  Including 
Icaronycteris  index"  (Volume  58,  No.  9)  by 
Walter  Segall,  research  associate.  Field 
Museum.  Publication  1137.  $.75. 

Fifty  Years  on  Museum  Staff 

Anthony  Patteri,  who  joined  the  maintenance  staff 
of  Field  Museum  in  October  of  1921.  recently 
celebrated  60  years — a  working  lifetime — with 
the  Museum. 

Backyard  Safari 

A  "Backyard  Safari"  gets  underway  each 
Sunday  at  8:00  a.m.  on  WBBM-TV 
(Channel  2).  This  unique  series  of  half-hoof 
programs  for  children  focuses  on  the 
natural  history  of  the  Chicago  area. 
Future  programs  will  explore:  December  12, 
Cats;  December  19,  Dogs;  December  26, 
Heat;  January  2,  The  Sun;  January  9, 

"Backyard  Safari"  is  produced  cooperatively 
by  WBBM-TV,  the  Chicago  Board  of 
Education,  and  Field  Museum. 

Jade  for  Sale 

The  Museum  Book  Shop  has  a  wide 
selection  of  jade  jewelry — rings,  pins, 
pendants,  bracelets — and  carvings  for  sale. 
Price  range  is  from  $5  to  $50.  Members 
of  the  Museum  receive  a  ten  percent 
discount  on  all  purchases. 




This  Island  Earth 

Oran  W.  Nicks,  ed.  National  Aeronautics 
and  Space  Administration  Special 
Publication  250.  Washington,  D.C.:  U.S. 
Government  Printing  Office,  1970.  182  pp. 
Indexed.  $6. 

Men  have  always  been  fascinated  by  high 
places:  the  view  from  a  skyscraper,  out  of  an 
airplane  window,  from  the  summit  of  a 
mountain.  There  is  a  quality  about  seeing 
the  world  spread  out  beneath  us  that  causes 
most  of  us  to  stare,  entranced.   This  Island 
Earth  is  a  book  that  captures  a  great  deal  of 
this  entrancing  quality;  for  here  is  a  large 
collection  of  color  photographs  taken  from 
the  ultimate  of  all  high  places — the  orbiting 

Most  of  us  have  seen  a  few  photographs 
taken  from  the  several  orbiting  vehicles  of 
the  Gemini  and  Apollo  programs.  This  book, 
however,  contains  hundreds  of  them,  almost 
all  in  color.  The  book  is  divided  into  seven 
chapters,  each  emphasizing  a  particular 
photographic  subject  matter:  the  earth's 
atmosphere,  the  seas,  the  lands.  North 
America,  visible  works  of  man.  The  opening 
chapter  deals  with  our  solar  system  in 
general  with  some  excellent  color  shots  of 
some  of  the  planets,  and  the  final  chapter 
discusses  and  illustrates  the  several 
projected  NASA  space  programs  planned, 
or  hoped  for,  over  the  next  few  years. 

Like  all  NASA  projects,  this  is  a  team- 
written  book.  Team  writing  usually  turns  out 
badly;  however,  NASA  has  become  so  expert 
at  team  efforts  that  this  book  reads 
particularly  well.  One  is  never  conscious  of 
severe  changes  in  style.  This  is,  of  course, 
a  tribute  to  the  editor,  Oran  Nicks. 

The  book  can  be  enjoyed  at  three  levels. 
One  can  simply  leaf  through  the 
photographs  and  enjoy  the  spectacular 
views  from  hundreds  of  miles  up  above  the 
atmosphere.  To  see  how  a  major  river,  a 
mountain  range,  or  a  sea  of  atoll  reefs 
appear  from  such  a  height  is  a  delightful 
experience.  One  can,  on  the  other  hand. 

carefully  read  the  photograph  captions  and 
discover  details  that  are  pointed  out  in  the 
adjacent  pictures.  Finally,  one  can  read  the 
text  that  goes  along  with  each  chapter. 
The  writing  is  easy  to  follow,  conversational 
in  style,  and  not  highly  technical.  One  can, 
nevertheless,  learn  a  good  deal  about 
aspects  of  the  earth's  weather  systems, 
oceanography,  and  geology. 

At  any  of  these  three  levels  it  is  a 
fascinating  book  to  go  through.  In  one  photo 
you  can  actually  see  a  straight  line  marking 
the  political  boundary  between  Israel  and 
Egypt.  The  Israeli  side  is  a  blue-gray  color; 
the  Egyptian  side  is  pale  tan.  The  colors 
reflect  the  differences  in  land  use.  In  Israel 
the  land  is  cultivated  and  irrigated;  in 
adjacent  Egypt  it  is  the  desert  of  the 
nomads.  In  another  photo  you  can  see  a 
straight  line  marking  the  political  boundary 
between  New  Mexico  and  Texas.  No  one  is 
really  certain  why  it  should  show  up  this 
way  in  a  photograph,  but  it  may  have 
something  to  do  with  differences  in  water- 
use  laws  between  these  two  states.  Such 
photos,  among  the  many  others  discussed 
in  the  book,  illustrate  some  of  the  economic 
uses  of  satellite-based  color  photography. 

The  book  suffers  only  slightly  from  technical 
defects.  Only  one  photo  is  badly  out  of 
color  register  and  is  quite  blurred.  In  general 
the  book  is  well  done.  It  is  hard-bound, 
printed  on  durable  glossy  paper,  and  its 
format  size,  9  by  1 1 V*  inches,  is  large  so 
that  one  does  not  get  a  cramped  feeling  for 
the  panoramic  views  contained  in  it.  In  fact, 
some  photographs  are  spread  out  over 
double  pages,  offering  a  truly  expansive 
look.  At  its  modest  price,  this  book  is  well 
worth  adding  to  any  home  library. 

The  title  comes  from  the  Apollo  10 
astronauts  as  they  looked  "over  their 
shoulders"  at  Earth  dropping  away  behind 
them,  a  lovely  white-frosted  sapphire  floating 
alone  in  a  sea  of  cold,  black  space.  That 
Earth  is  truly  an  "island"  there  can  no 
longer  be  any  doubt.  In  these  days  of 
impending  ecological  tragedy  it  is  perhaps 
desirable  that  we  be  reminded  of  this 
fact — again  and  again. 

by  Dr.  Edward  J.  Olsen,  curator  of 
mineralogy  in  the  Department  of  Geology, 
Field  Museum. 

Collecting  Seashells 

By  Kathleen  Yerger  Johnstone.  New  York: 
Grosset  &  Dunlap,  1970.  198  pp.  $5.95. 

Shell  collecting,  which  has  always  enjoyed 
a  considerable  popularity  among  amateur 
naturalists,  seems  to  be  on  the  increase,  to 
judge  from  the  ever-growing  number  of 
books  appearing  on  the  market  devoted  to 
this  hobby.  What  merits  the  addition  of  yet 
another  volume  on  the  subject? 

Mrs.  Johnstone  wisely  chose  not  to  make 
this  another  identification  manual — these 
exist  in  ample  number  for  all  levels  of 
interest.  Rather,  she  attempts  to  lead  the 
amateur  from  the  stage  of  collecting, 
willy-nilly,  the  pretty  exoskeletons  of  that 
vast  animal  phylum  termed  the  Mollusca  to 
a  serious  study  of  the  inhabitants  which 
constructed  the  shells  and  the  environments 
in  which  they  live. 

Many  of  the  26  chapters  in  her  book  cover 
the  basics,  from  what  a  seashell  is,  what 
mollusks  are,  the  details  of  where  and  how 
to  collect,  cleaning  and  curing,  through  the 
important  though  often  neglected  tasks  of 
record-keeping  and  cataloging,  to  hints  on 
display  and  exhibition.  What  sets  this  book 
off  from  most  of  its  predecessors  is  the 
repeated  urging  for  the  amateur  to  turn  his 
attention  from  the  spectacular  to  the 
commonplace,  to  observe  and  record  the 
biological  facts  of  the  living  animal.  The 
scientific  contribution  of  amateurs  in  other 
phases  of  natural  history  is  well  known,  and 
this  reviewer  has  felt  that  the  elevation  of 
the  amateur  in  malacology  is  long  overdue. 
The  title  of  Mrs.  Johnstone's  19th  chapter — 
"Stop,  Look,  and  Learn" — might  well  be 
taken  as  a  watchword  for  all  amateur 
naturalists,  both  in  the  field  and  in  a  museum. 

Six  full-color  photographs  and  numerous 
black-and-white  photographs  and  line 
drawings  illustrate  the  book.  Rounding  out 
the  volume  are  sections  on  suggested 
reading,  museum  and  aquarium  exhibits, 
and  an  annotated  bibliography.  I  wish  the 
author  had  given  a  bit  more  information  on 
the  attractive  endpapers,  reproduced  from  a 
copy  of  Historia  Naturale  di  Ferrante  in  the 
collection  of  the  Museum  of  Comparative 
Zoology,  Harvard  University.  The 
bibliography  will  lead  the  interested  reader 
into  the  much  broader  field  of  marine 
biology  and  oceanography,  the  ecological 
aspects  of  which  require  serious  attention 
from  all  intelligent  persons  today.  The 
three-fourths  of  this  planet  covered  by 
marine  waters  is  at  least  as  important  for 
life  as  the  one-fourth  covered  by  land  that 
we  live  on. 

by  Ernest  J.  Roscoe,  lecturer  in  the 
Department  of  Education's  Raymond 
Foundation,  Field  Museum. 

Please  address  all  letters  to  the  editor  to 


Field  Museum  of  Natural  History 
Roosevelt  Road  and  Lake  Shore  Drive 
Chicago,  Illinois  60605 

The  editors  reserve  the  right  to  edit 
letters  for  length. 





Through  December  31 
The  Afro-Amertcan  Style,  From  the  Design 
Works  of  Bedford-Stuyvesant,  an  exhibit 
of  textiles  blending  classical  African  motifs 
and  contemporary  design.  The  original 
Field  Museum  Benin  artifacts  which 
inspired  many  of  the  designs  are  also 
shown.  Financial  assistance  for  the  exhibit 
was  received  from  the  CNA  Foundation, 
Chicago,  and  the  Illinois  Arts  Council,  a 
state  agency.  Hall  9. 

Through  January  9 

Studies  In  Jade,  a  selection  of  books  from 
Field  Museum's  library,  featured  in  the 
South  Lounge  to  coincide  with  the  recent 
opening  of  the  new  Hall  of  Jades.  Included 
are  The  Bishop  Collection,  Investigations 
and  Studies  in  Jade,  in  two  volumes,  and 
Chinese  Jade  Carvings  ol  the  XVIth  to  the 
XlXth  Centuries  in  the  Collection  of 
Mrs.  Georg  Vetlesen,  in  three  volumes. 


Color  In  Nature,  an  exhibit  examining  the 
nature  and  variety  of  color  in  the  physical 
and  living  world,  and  how  it  functions 
in  plants  and  animals.  It  focuses  on  the 
many  roles  of  color,  as  in  mimicry, 
camouflage,  warning,  sexual  recognition 
and  selection,  energy  channeling,  and 
vitamin  production,  using  Museum 
specimens  as  examples.  Continues 
indefinitely.  Hall  25. 

Reld  Museum's  75th  Anniversary  Exhibit 

continues  indefinitely.  "A  Sense  of  Wonder" 
offers  thought-provoking  prose  and  poetry 
associated  with  physical,  biological,  and 
cultural  aspects  of  nature;  "A  Sense  of 
History"  presents  a  graphic  portrayal  of  the 
Museum's  past;  and  "A  Sense  of 
Discovery"  shows  examples  of  research 
conducted  by  Museum  scientists.  Hall  3. 

John  James  Audutwn's  elephant  folio. 
The  Birds  ot  America,  on  display  In  the 
North  Lounge.  A  different  plate  from  the 
rare,  first-edition  volumes  is  featured 
each  day. 


B  a.m.  to  4  p.m.  Monday  ttirough  Tliuraday; 
9  a.m.  to  9  p.m.  Friday:  9  a.m.  to  5  p.m. 
Saturday  and  Sunday.  Dacambar  27  through  SO, 
B  a.m.  to  5  p.m. 

Cloaad  Chrlatmaa  Day  and  Naw  Yaar'a  Day. 

The  MuMum  Library  la  open  9  a.m.  to  4  p.m. 
Monday  through  Friday.  Please  obtain  paa* 
at  reception  deak,  main  floor  north. 

Film  and  Tour  Program 

Decemt>er  1  through  December  24 
"Winter  Greens,"  a  self-guided  tour, 
designed  to  acquaint  visitors  with  plants 
that  are  p>opular  during  the  Christmas 
season.  Free  tour  sheets  are  available  at 
Museum  entrances. 

December  27  through  December  31 
"Through  These  Doors,"  a  color  film 
focusing  on  behind-the-scenes  activities  at 
the  Museum,  is  shown  at  1:15  p.m.  in  the 
second  floor  North  Meeting  Room.  A 
guided  "highlights"  tour  leaves  at  2  p.m. 
from  the  North  information  desk. 

Continues  indefinitely 
Free  Natural  History  Film  "Patterns  for 
Survival"  (A  Study  of  Mimicry)  presented 
at  11  a.m.  and  1  p.m.  on  Saturdays,  and 
11  a.m.,  1  p.m.,  and  3  p.m.  on  Sundays  in 
the  second  floor  North  Meeting  Room. 
The  half-hour  film  offers  an  overall  view  of 
protective  coloration  in  insects  and 
provides  visitors  with  an  insight  into  the 
"Color  in  Nature"  exhibit 

Children's  Program 

"Faces  of  Africa,"  Winter  Journey  for 
Children,  begins  December  1.  Youngsters 
test  their  powers  of  observation  by 
answering  written  questions  and  making 
sketches  of  African  masks  in  Museum 
exhibit  areas  while  on  a  self-guided  tour. 
All  boys  and  girls  who  can  read  and  write 

may  participate.  Journey  sheets  are 
available  at  Museum  entrances.  Through 
February  29. 

Musical  Program 

December  5 

Metropolitan  Youth  Symphony  presents 
a  free  concert  at  2:30  p.m.  in  the 
James  Simpson  Theatre. 

December  18 

Christmas  Muslcale,  presented  by  the  Stein 
Family  Ensemble  of  Strings  and  Voices, 
from  1:30  to  3  p.m.  in  the  North  Lounge. 

Coming  in  January 

Opens  January  11 

Coco-de-mer,  an  exhibit  of  the  world's 
largest  seed  and  its  use  by  man,  on 
display  in  the  South  Lounge  through 
March  5. 

Opens  January  20 

Australian  Atiorlginal  Art  from  Arnhem 
Land,  a  selection  of  more  than  400  bark 
paintings  and  some  wooden  ceremonial 
sculptures.  The  exhibit  is  unique  because 
of  the  documentation  accompanying  most 
of  the  pieces,  including  information  about 
the  artists,  when  they  were  painted,  their 
use,  and  the  region  in  which  they  were 
produced.  The  material  is  from  the 
extensive  collection  of  Louis  A.  Allen  of 
Palo  Alto,  California.  Through  September 
10.  Hall  27. 

A  Reminder 

Make  your  visit  to  Field  Museum  early  in 
the  day  Sunday,  December  19,  a  date  the 
Chicago  Bears  will  play  in  Soldier  Field. 
Because  of  this  afternoon  game,  the 
Southeast  parking  facilities  will  be  filled 
and  the  North  lot  reserved  for  Museum 
guests  undoubtedly  strained  to  capacity. 

A  Field  Museum  membership  would  be  a  special  kind  of  Holiday  gift  for  some  of  those 
special  people  you  want  to  rememl>er  at  this  season.  They  would  appreciate  your 
thoughtfulness  not  Just  once  but  all  through  the  year.  For  each  gift  membership  we  will 
send  an  announcement  greeting  card  in  your  name  and  portfolio  of  four  color  reproduc- 
tions of  bird  paintings  done  by  the  distinguished  American  artist  Louis  Agassiz  Fuertes 
on  a  Field  Museum  expedition  to  East  Africa. 

Clip  and  mail  to  Field  Muaaum  of  Natural  HIatory,  RooaaiMll  Rd.  at  Lake  Shore  Drive,  Chicago,  III.  SOSOS 
Ploase  tend  the  following  out  Uembenhip  Q  Cheek  encloted  payable  to  Field  Muaeum 

Q  Annua/  $15  Q  Aatoclate  $160  Q  LUe  $S00         Q  Pleue  bill  me  m  lollomt: 
In  my  nam*  to: 

Qitt  racipient'a  na 



CHy  State  Zip  City  Stat* 

n  S»nd  bird  prtntt  to  gift  nclpleet  Q  Send  Mrd  prfnta  lo  me 

Plaaea  put  Information  for  additional  giti  memberehipe  en  a  aaparal*  ahaat